Beyond the End
by ColREHogan
Summary: Colonel Klink's life is getting even more complicated. COMPLETED!
1. Not Your Typical Morning

_Author's Note: Others own the Hogan's Heroes characters._

Beyond the End

By Diane Maher

            As Colonel Wilhelm Klink, Kommandant of Stalag 13 sat at his office desk, he read the day's mail.  He came across an order signed by Hitler himself dated nine days previously.  The sheer length of time it took for the order to get to Stalag 13 from Berlin made him realize that Germany was close to losing the war.  When Klink opened the envelope and read the order, he was shocked beyond belief.  It was an insane order, one that he, as a human being felt that he couldn't execute, yet he knew he may have no alternative but to do so.  It read:

Kommandants of all Luft Stalags, the Allied hordes will soon be arriving at your gates.  If we must die to preserve our Fatherland and our beliefs, we must take as many of them with us as possible.  Therefore, I order you to begin executing all the prisoners in your camps.

            Adolf Hitler

            20 April 1945

            Klink paused and looked around his office at the things he surrounded himself with during his tenure here.  The pictures of the Führer were a given.  The other pictures were of the men he had trained with in his old flying unit, the planes they had flown in the first war and when he looked at his desk, the pictures of his family.  The pictures included his mother and brother, both living in Leipzig and his late father and grandfather both of whom he had worshipped when he was a boy.  He wanted to follow in their footsteps and be a soldier.  His only memories of them now besides these pictures were the spiked helmet his grandfather had given him only weeks before his death and the humidor that his father had given him upon his graduation from the academy.  Anymore, he found it difficult to even enjoy a good cigar without wondering what would happen to him when the Allies came to Stalag 13.

            It was seven in the morning and Klink called Sergeant Hans Schultz, the sergeant of the guard at Stalag 13, into his office.  "Schultz, bring Colonel Hogan over here right now," he ordered as he poured a glass of schnapps for himself.

            "Jawohl, Herr Kommandant!" Schultz replied.  The fat sergeant said nothing about his commanding officer drinking schnapps at this hour of the morning, which was extremely unusual.

            Klink then went and stood in front of the mirror on the wall and looked at his reflection.  His dark blue Luftwaffe uniform was as usual clean and neat.  Every remaining hair on his head was in place and his monocle was clean.  So why do I feel so dirty? he asked himself.  Perhaps it is because of the deed I am about to do or the order from the Führer that is precipitating my action -- or both.

            After Schultz left, Klink downed the glass of schnapps in one draught, poured himself a second glass and drank half of it as well.  Then, he went over to his desk, opened the top drawer on the right side, pulled out his Luger, checked that it was loaded and the safety was off.  He stood facing the map of Stalag 13 with his right hand hidden from the view of someone coming through the door.  He couldn't believe that he was even considering this, but that part of his mind was suddenly eclipsed by the Führer's order, his own national pride and perhaps a touch of temporary insanity brought on by the former.

  
            Schultz crossed the compound to Barracks 2, a wooden frame building like all the rest of the buildings in camp, entered quietly and walked into the room at the far end of the barracks where the senior POW officer had just woken up.  Hogan was dressed in his uniform as usual.  He had just finished his morning hygienic routine, as Schultz entered his room.

            "Colonel Hogan, Kommandant Klink wants to see you in his office right away," Schultz said.

            "Okay, Schultz," Hogan replied.  He couldn't imagine what Klink wanted at this hour, but as it was a warm morning, he just grabbed his brown cap, pulled on his jacket and followed Schultz across the compound to the Kommandant's office building.

  
            The door to his office opened and the senior POW officer, Colonel Hogan, walked in and stood on the opposite side of the desk from where Klink usually sat.  Hogan noticed the half-empty glass of schnapps and asked, "It's a little early for the schnapps, isn't it, Kommandant?"

            Klink mumbled something, but Hogan didn't catch the muttered reply as the German was facing the wall, ostentatiously examining the map of Stalag 13 which hung there.  It was warm in the office and since it looked like he would be there for a while, Hogan took off his jacket to be more comfortable and draped it over the chair next to him.

            Klink turned towards Hogan then and for the first time Hogan saw the morose expression on the German's face.  Then he knew that something was wrong.

            "What's wrong, Kommandant?" asked Hogan as he casually dropped his hat over the spiked helmet on the desk.  He folded his arms across his chest and tried to understand what was going on with Klink.  By the expression on Klink's face, Hogan thought that he was ready to commit suicide.

            Klink didn't answer.  Before he could stop himself, he raised the Luger, pointed it at Hogan and said, "I'm sorry, Colonel Hogan," and fired.


	2. The End

_Author's Note: Others own the Hogan's Heroes characters._

Beyond the End – Part 2

By Diane Maher

            In the split second before Klink fired the Luger that he had pointed at Hogan, a look of sheer astonishment crossed Hogan's face.  Although Klink would never admit it, he was a terrible shot.  But at this short distance, he knew he couldn't miss the target.  In that brief instant, Klink's arm began to shake as though he had the palsy.

            "What the…???" were Hogan's last shocked words as Klink pulled the trigger.  Hogan felt a brief, searing pain as the bullet tore into his chest.  The sound of the weapon discharging brought Klink's mind back to reality.  The next few seconds were an eternity.  His gaze was transfixed on Hogan's face and he watched as the American fell to the floor.  It all happened in slow motion.  The thud of Hogan's body as it struck the floor sounded like a bomb hitting its target.  The sound of the air released from Hogan's lungs was like the whoosh of an explosion's shockwave.

            All this happened in the instant after Klink pulled the trigger.  His gaze moved to the gun in his right hand; he quickly dropped it as though it was white hot.  It fell to the floor with a clatter and skidded across the room, finally resting under the curtains that covered the window and hid his deed from the prying eyes of the world.  Then, he moved around the desk and saw Colonel Hogan's body on the floor.  The dark, scarlet patch on Hogan's chest was growing as the wound bled more.  When Klink saw the gushing blood, his eyes widened in shock and he found that he couldn't tear his eyes away from Hogan.  He then watched as Hogan heaved a last sigh and died.  He knelt next to Hogan's prone form, placed his hand on the American's neck to feel for a pulse and found none.  He finally realized the horrible truth that Hogan was dead.  "Oh my God, what have I done?" Klink whispered hoarsely.

            While Hogan was in Klink's office, the rest of the prisoners had fallen out for roll call.  As Schultz finished the count and stood in his usual place next to Kinch, he thought it was odd that the Kommandant hadn't come out of his office yet.

            "Where's Colonel Hogan?" asked Kinch, curious.

            "He's in the Kommandant's office," replied Schultz just as a gunshot was heard.

            "Did that come from Klink's office?!" asked Kinch, afraid.

            "I don't know, wait here, I'll go find out," replied Schultz, shocked as he headed for Klink's office.

            "Wait here? You've gotta be joking!" Kinch said and followed Schultz.  He noticed that the other prisoners were looking anxiously around for the source of the shot.  As Kinch and Schultz entered the office building, they noticed the door to Klink's office was closed.

            "Schultz!!!" they heard Klink bellow from inside the office.

            Schultz went in and saw the body of the American on the floor with his jacket covering his head and torso.  He couldn't believe his eyes.  Confused, he asked, "What happened, Herr Kommandant?"

            Kinch squeezed through the door behind Schultz and looked at the floor.  He was horrified when he recognized Hogan's bomber jacket covering the still form lying in front of Klink's desk.  Kinch fell to his knees; he then slowly uncovered Hogan's face and gently closed his CO's lifeless, staring eyes and took his dog tags.  When the cold metal of the tags finally registered in his mind, Kinch felt a burning hatred for their captors.  Nothing would stand in his way until Hogan's death was avenged.  Hogan was one of the few people in this world who didn't care what color his skin was, who treated him as an equal and now…Hogan was gone.

            "Oh no…Noo!!!!!" Kinch shouted.  He stood and ran from the room without even waiting for an explanation of why Hogan had died.

            Schultz stood at the window in Klink's office and his eyes were wet with tears as he asked, "Herr Kommandant, what happened? Why did you shoot Colonel Hogan?" He paused as he pulled out his handkerchief from his pocket, wiped the tears away and blew his nose before crying out, "What did Hogan ever do to you to deserve to be killed in cold blood?!?"

            Klink tried to stand, but his legs wouldn't support him and he collapsed into his desk chair.  His reply was barely audible, "I…I was only obeying our Führer's order."

            "What order?" demanded Schultz as he looked out the window at the dawning day.  This was his commanding officer he was speaking to, not some crazed Hitler worshipper.  He couldn't hold back his tears anymore and wept for Hogan.

            "To start killing all the prisoners in camp," replied Klink dejectedly.

            A blanket of silence descended upon the office.  Klink ordered, "Call out the guards and their orders in case of a riot will be to shoot to kill.  Is that understood?"

            "Jawohl, Herr Kommandant," replied Schultz quietly.  "Is there anything else?" he asked, staring blankly at Klink.  His only thoughts were to get away from the Kommandant.  How could he have done such a horrible thing? Schultz thought.

            "No, Schultz.  Deploy the men," Klink ordered.

            When Schultz left the office, Klink once again thought about the horrible thing he had just done.  How could he live with himself? Klink walked over to the window and stared out at the lightening sky.

            Klink then heard the sound of machine guns firing on the other side of camp.  The prisoners were rioting.  He stared out the window and made no move to leave his office to supervise his guards.  He realized then that the guards had never had to cope with anything like this.  He'd always hoped there would never be a riot, not in his camp.

            "Why is this happening?" Klink asked angrily as he looked over at Hogan's body.  "Can't you stop the prisoners?"

            For an instant, he thought that Hogan would get up, go outside and stop the riot.  Klink swallowed nervously as he looked back out the window.  He saw Schultz standing on the porch; the Sergeant's gaze was transfixed on the compound.

            Klink continued to watch from the window and was stunned as the prisoners ruthlessly gunned down Langenscheidt and several of his other guards.  The prisoners were fighting for their lives now that their protector was dead.  He saw the bodies of his men littering the compound as well as those of many fallen prisoners, including Corporals LeBeau, and Newkirk who fell dead just below his office window.

            "AHHHH!!!" Klink shouted and jumped back from the sight of their blank stares from the ground.

            Klink watched as the POWs fought valiantly against his men.  The amazing thing was that the prisoners were winning.  More and more of his men fell, some even because of friendly fire from the guard towers.  And all this was happening because he had killed Colonel Hogan.  Again, he lamented, "Oh my God, what have I done?"

            Outside the window on the porch, Klink heard Schultz's frightened voice as he asked, "Kinch, what are you doing?!?" and then the sound of the gunshot which heralded Schultz's death.

            "Oh God, NO!!" Klink whispered in anguish as he watched Schultz's body fall dead on the porch.  Then, out of habit, he straightened his uniform as he turned from the window to face the door.  The door to his office slammed open and Kinch pointed the gun towards him.

            Klink saw the anger in Kinch's expression and watched every move he made.  Kinch slowly pulled Hogan's chain with the dog tags and ring from his pocket, looked briefly at them and angrily cried out, "This one's for you, Colonel Hogan! I will personally see that your death is avenged!"

            Klink stared blankly at the black man as Kinch pulled the trigger.


	3. The Nightmare

_Author's Note: Others own the Hogan's Heroes characters._

Beyond the End – Part 3

By Diane Maher

            "AAHHH!!!! AAAHHHH!!!!" Klink shouted as he sat bolt upright in bed, clutching his chest.  He was sweating profusely and horribly afraid.  As his eyes adjusted to the darkness of his bedroom, he realized that he was in his quarters and that everything was all right.  There was no riot and there had been no deaths.  But what would today bring? Klink asked himself as fear gripped his heart.

            Crawling out of his bed, Klink slid his feet into his slippers and headed for the bathroom.  After a lukewarm shower, he put on his royal blue robe with the yellow embroidered hawk that his mother had given him for his birthday last year.  Standing in front of the mirror, he looked at his reflection before he shaved and dressed for the day.  So Wilhelm, the day has finally come.  You must decide what to do and you may have no alternative, Klink thought wistfully to himself as he finished dressing.

            Klink put on his coat and wiped the sweat from his brow before placing his cap on his head, picking up his riding crop and walking outside to hear Schultz's report at the morning roll call.  As he crossed the compound, Klink looked at the prisoners in front of him.  Looking down the rows at each individual face, he knew that to these men, this was a normal day in the life of Stalag 13.  Finally, his gaze met Colonel Hogan's and his fear assaulted him once more.  Klink realized that this day wouldn't be like any other.

            "All prisoners present and accounted for, Herr Kommandant!" Schultz exclaimed in his usual loud tone.

            Klink waved his hand carelessly towards the prisoners and shouted, "Dismissed!"  He then turned and started back to his office.  Before entering the building, he stopped, stood and looked around at the place he'd called home since his transfer here when the camp opened.  I know now that my choice is right, Klink thought, his pride clearly paving the way for that choice.

  
            As Klink entered his office a few minutes later, he looked at his desk and around the office and saw the pictures and the memorabilia, all exactly where they should be.  Removing his monocle, he pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and carefully wiped the eyepiece.  As he sat at his desk, he unlocked and opened the drawer where he'd hidden the Führer's order that had arrived yesterday and pulled out the envelope.  He had wanted to make sure no one would find it.

            Opening the envelope and pulling out the single, folded sheet of paper, Klink wished that when he unfolded the page and looked at the words, they would say, 'Free the prisoners, we have lost.'  Instead, the words 'execute all prisoners' stood out as though they were the only words on the page.

            Klink looked at his calendar and made a mental note of the date -- April thirtieth.  He stood, went to the window, opened it and looked outside.  The sun lit most of the compound now.  He inhaled the crisp morning air before nervously returning to his desk.  He looked at the rest of the mail piled there, but was so afraid of what he was going to do today, that he couldn't deal with any of it.  Out of frustration, he threw each and every letter into the trash can until finally, all that remained on his desk was the envelope he'd received yesterday bearing the Führer's order.

            Knowing he could no longer put off the inevitable, Klink sighed and said, "The time has finally come."

            Klink called, "Schultz!"  He stood, poured himself a glass of schnapps and downed it in one gulp.  He felt the soothing warmth of the liquid as it slid down his throat.

            Schultz came into his office and asked, "Jawohl, Herr Kommandant?"  His gaze briefly went to the schnapps glass before meeting Klink's eyes.

            "Bring Hogan over here right away, I need to speak to him," ordered Klink.

            "Jawohl, Herr Kommandant," Schultz replied and left the room.

            Klink opened his desk drawer and pulled out the loaded Luger that he kept there.  He examined the gun's barrel, turned off the safety, and slowly turned it over and over in his hands.  He felt the weight of world on his shoulders pending his upcoming confrontation with Hogan and the decision he had made about the Führer's order.  A minute later, Schultz and Hogan entered his office.

            "Herr Kommandant, Colonel Hogan is here as you requested," Schultz said as his eyes bulged when he saw Klink holding the gun.  Schultz cast a furtive glance toward Hogan and noticed that his expression was one of surprise when he saw the gun in Klink's hand.

            Looking up, Klink's expression was completely devoid of emotion.  "Thank you, Schultz.  Dismissed," responded Klink with a salute and Schultz quickly left the office.  To Hogan, Klink said, "I'm sure you're curious as to why you're here."

            "The thought had crossed my mind," replied Hogan warily as he looked again at the gun in Klink's hand and then the serious expression on Klink's face.  Something was terribly wrong.  This wasn't the same man he thought he knew standing in front of him.  Hogan began to feel uneasy as he didn't know what to expect.

            Staring at the gun, Klink stood and began, "You've been here a long time, Colonel Hogan."

            "Yes," said Hogan.  "Kommandant, are you all right? You seem to be distracted."

            Klink looked at Hogan then and saw the concern on his face.  "Yes.  I am very distracted," he replied sharply.  He turned and looked at the map of Germany where he had always kept track of troop movements, the gun still in his hand.  "I know that the war is going badly for us.  It is going very badly, in fact."

            Hogan came and stood behind Klink and looked at the map.  He commented quietly, "Kommandant, why…?"

            "Why did I want to talk to you? Well…" Klink began.  As panic gripped him, he took a deep breath to calm himself and pulled his tunic so that it was neat and tidy.  When Klink turned in Hogan's direction, his gaze slowly rose to meet Hogan's and his gun hand was clearly shaking as he brought the gun to bear.

            Shock gripped Hogan as he watched Klink point the gun at him.  He saw the fear and anguish in the Kommandant's blue eyes and his first thought was to grab the gun away from Klink.  But before he could, Klink clicked his heels together, came to attention, and said, "Colonel Hogan, I wanted you to know that as of right now, I am surrendering Stalag 13 to you."  He then turned the gun around and handed it to the American Colonel butt end first.

            "What?" asked Hogan, his eyes wide with shock.  "What's the catch, Kommandant?"

            "There's no catch.  This is an unconditional surrender," Klink said nervously.  When Hogan took the gun, for an instant Klink feared the American would pull the trigger and shoot him.  Klink's eyes flicked to the gun which Hogan still held and for an instant wondered if he had just sentenced all the men in his command to death.  However, Hogan didn't fire.  Hogan must have noticed his nervous expression as he slipped the gun into one of his jacket's pockets.  Klink stood to attention again and gave Hogan a proper military salute.

            Hogan saw that Klink was serious and stood to attention and smartly returned the salute.  Hogan's expression was one of bewilderment when he asked, "Why are you surrendering to me? Why now?"

            Klink relaxed a bit before walking over to his desk and picking up the sheet of paper containing his order to execute the prisoners.  He handed the paper to Hogan.  "That piece of paper contains an order from Hitler.  Read it," Klink said.

            Hogan read the order, by the time he finished, his expression was incredulous.  When Hogan looked at him, Klink saw the anger and pain in Hogan's eyes before he turned away.  When he asked, "You've had this order and you've not obeyed it?"

            Klink nodded and replied, "I'm not a killer.  I just couldn't kill you and the prisoners here.  This is an insane order and I refuse to blindly obey it."

            "I don't know what to say…" Hogan began, his voice choked up.

            "You're welcome," Klink said quietly.  "I didn't know how I could defend you and the prisoners if someone came to make sure that I carried out this order.  I've been agonizing over what to do about the order since I received it yesterday.  I finally realized that I just wanted the war to end.  Our troops are retreating before Allied might and I didn't want to see any killing here.  The best way to achieve that is for me to surrender and for the prisoners to arm themselves if need be."

            After a minute of silence, Klink asked, "So Colonel Hogan, what will happen to me and the men of my command?"

            Hogan thought for a moment before replying, "I think we'll iron out the details of a peaceful transfer of power in Stalag 13 and then we can discuss how we're going to survive the rest of the war.  I'm concerned about what will happen when someone comes to check out whether you're actually following Hitler's order."


	4. Role Reversal

_Author's Note: Others own the Hogan's Heroes characters._

Beyond the End – Part 4

By Diane Maher

            It wasn't until that moment that Klink realized the enormity of what he'd done.  He felt his hands trembling and involuntarily clenched his fists behind his back to prevent Hogan from seeing his weakness.  Forcing his inner fears aside, Klink stood tall and proud.  What will Hogan do if someone comes to enforce Hitler's order? Surely it will only be a matter of time before that happens?

            Klink wondered whether Hogan would show the Germans in Stalag 13 mercy.  He knew that his own people wouldn't be merciful to himself or the prisoners if they found out what he'd done.  After all, he had committed treason.  And Hogan knew the prisoners were dead if he didn't do something.  Klink never thought he'd see the day that he would put his life into someone else's hands, yet he had done just that.

            Looking at Hogan's expression, Klink watched it pass from stunned disbelief to acceptance and finally joy as that annoying impish grin came over Hogan's face.  Seeing the light dance in Hogan's eyes, Klink decided with a rueful sigh that it was time to inform the camp.

            Klink sat to his desk and signed a piece of paper.  "This makes the surrender official.  I've noted it in the camp records."

            Hogan looked at him and replied, "Okay.  You will make the official announcement at this formation and then order your men to surrender their weapons to us."

            "Colonel Hogan, do you mind if I have a few moments to myself to consider what I'm going to say to the men?" asked Klink.  Hogan nodded and silently left the office.

            Klink picked up the spiked helmet, which had belonged to his grandfather and held it, lovingly stroking the brass eagle adorning the helmet.  He remembered what his grandfather had told him just prior to his death, "Be brave and true to your heart, no one else's."  He could hear the old man's voice and Klink knew at that moment that he had made the right choice.

            It had been easier than he thought it would be to surrender to Hogan.  Especially after all the anguish he'd put himself through needlessly after receiving Hitler's order.

  
  


            Klink stood, went to the window, opened it, and bellowed, "SCHULTZ!!!!"

            The fat sergeant came into his office several minutes later panting and asked, "Is there something wrong, Herr Kommandant?"

            Klink replied, "No.  Call a special formation of all off-duty guards.  Everyone must attend.  And see to it that there is a microphone set up and connected to the camp's PA system.  The men on duty need to hear my announcement too."

            "Jawohl, Herr Kommandant," Schultz said, looking confused.

            As far as what he would tell his men, Klink decided to keep it simple.  There were no more speeches to be given; the war was over for all of the Germans now.  He straightened his uniform, put on his cap, grabbed his riding crop and strode outside.

            Klink considered what would happen next.  The prisoners would be ecstatic and he prayed that his men didn't decide to stage their own riot.  As the men of his command began assembling in the compound, he doubted there would be any problems from them.  All that many of these men wanted to do was to go home to their families.

            Hogan came up and stood next to Klink as he fiddled with his riding crop and cleaned his monocle.  "Are you nervous?" asked Hogan.

            Klink stopped and in an anxious whisper, replied, "Of course I'm nervous!" Hogan grinned.  Suddenly, Klink felt less nervous as he replaced his monocle on his eye.

            The prisoners were lining up in their usual casual manner for the formation and the guards were lined up for a formal inspection.  Klink and Hogan strode down the steps together and stood in the center of the compound.  Schultz handed Klink a microphone.

            This would be his last speech as the Kommandant of Stalag 13.  As Klink went to speak, the PA system let out a squeal.  Schultz fumbled with the controls until the speakers were quiet.  Clearing his throat over the microphone, Klink found the system had settled down.

            "I'm sure that you're all wondering why I've called this formation," Klink began.

            "Yeah, what's bloody goin' on?" shouted Newkirk.

            "Maybe the Krauts are going to surrender!" replied LeBeau.

            "Pipe down!!" commanded Hogan.

            Klink flinched at Hogan's commanding tone.  Only Major Hochstetter or General Burkhalter's voices sounded like that, Klink thought.  He continued, "As of this moment, I am announcing that I have surrendered control of Stalag 13 to Colonel Hogan."  There was a loud cheer from the prisoners.

            "Herr Kommandant, you're surrendering?" asked Schultz, bewildered.  "Why?"

            Klink looked at Schultz and then at the men of his command.  Covering the microphone with his gloved hand, he replied to Schultz, "Because the war is going very badly for our Fatherland."  Klink continued into the microphone, "Men, I order you to lay down your weapons and walk away from them.  We are now the prisoners in Stalag 13."

            The German soldiers gaped at their superior officer in shock.  Klink looked at the expressions on the faces of the soldiers in his command.  Captain Gruber's mouth stood open and his eyes were wide with amazement.  Some of the guards stared blankly into space; others were whispering amongst themselves or possibly praying.  Schultz made the first gesture and stepped forward, saluted Klink and pushed his rifle to the ground in front of Klink and Hogan and it clattered noisily in the now silent compound.  Corporal Langenscheidt and then the other men followed suit moments later.

            The guards mumbled amongst themselves, and were amazed at this turn of events.  "So what will happen to us?" Schultz asked.

            Klink looked towards Hogan and asked, "Well Colonel Hogan? What will happen to us?"  The sound of the weapons clattering to the ground in the center of the compound wasn't as ominous as Klink imagined it would be.  Many of the guards dropped their gun belts as well.  The prisoners armed themselves and waited for Hogan's order.

            Hogan said, "We'll have to confine the Germans to their quarters.  There's not enough room in the cooler for all of the Germans."  Klink stared at Hogan, utterly dumbfounded.  Hogan continued, "However, if any of your men give us trouble, they will be punished."

            "How do we know that some of the prisoners won't try to abuse us?" one of the guards asked.

            "You deserve it after the way you've treated us!" one of the prisoners shouted.

            "PIPE DOWN! There will be no abuse of the prisoners.  You will be treated according to the Geneva Convention," Hogan replied loudly.

            "And if these men ignore you?" demanded the same guard.

            "If I hear that anyone isn't being treated accordingly, I will see to it that the offender is punished.  Are there any more questions?" asked Hogan.  No one replied, so Hogan dismissed the men.

            Hogan went over to Sergeant Kinchloe and said something to him.  Klink didn't hear what it was, but the black Sergeant nodded and went into the administration building.  He watched as Hogan gave orders to some of the other prisoners to take over the duties of the various stations in camp.

            Klink marveled at Hogan's demeanor.  The man had an unmistakable air of command about him.  Klink realized now that it had always been there, but in all Hogan's time as a prisoner in Stalag 13, he had rarely seen it.

            "Foster, Carter and Newkirk take Schultz and some of our men and see to the confinement of the Germans who are on duty and that we have an accurate count of them.  Then see to it that those posts are manned.  There should be eighty men, not counting Colonel Klink.  Schultz, will you help us make sure that everyone is accounted for? And fellas, don't get trigger-happy.  This is a peaceful surrender."

            "Yes sir!" Schultz replied with a smart salute towards Hogan.

            Klink rolled his eyes skyward and shook his head in frustration.  He then shook a balled fist towards Schultz.  "Schultz!! You're still under my command!" Klink whined.

            Schultz shrugged and replied, "But Herr Kommandant, you're not in command anymore."

            Klink's eyes closed in amazement that Schultz would say such a thing to him and then his shoulders slumped as the reality that he was a prisoner hit him like a brick.  He opened his eyes and said in a defeated tone, "You're right, Schultz.  Go ahead and do what Hogan has asked you to do."

            "And what do I do?" LeBeau asked Hogan.

            Klink looked pleadingly at the diminutive Frenchman.  "I don't suppose you'd be willing to cook me a nice dinner?"

            LeBeau scowled and muttered something in French.  Hogan looked towards the Frenchman and replied, "We need you to help feed everyone.  Choose some people to help you in the kitchen."

            "What happens when we use up the food in camp?" inquired LeBeau.

            Hogan thought for a moment and replied, "I'm sure that Schultz would be happy to help you buy some food.  I hope that an Allied unit arrives here before we run out of food.  See how many days we can stretch what we've got and let me know later after you've served a nice dinner to the Kommandant and me in his quarters."

            Klink was utterly amazed at Hogan's reply and LeBeau looked stunned that Hogan would give him such an order.  LeBeau muttered another protest in French.  Hogan touched LeBeau's shoulder and said softly, "Do it for me, Louis."  LeBeau nodded and headed for the kitchen.

            It was still early in the morning and Klink turned and headed back to his quarters.  Since Hogan was now in charge, then he wasn't needed in the office.  Dragging his feet as he walked, Klink glanced up at the guard towers and the main gate out of habit; he noticed that his men were still at these posts.  Hogan's men hadn't confined everyone yet.  He guessed that it was taking a while for Schultz to convince some of the guards that what their Kommandant said over the PA system was true.  He now understood why Hogan asked Schultz to go with his men.

            Hogan interrupted his reverie and asked, "Kommandant?"

            Klink stood straight, turned to face Hogan and replied, "Yes Hogan?"  There was a look of concern on Hogan's face as though the American really cared about his ex-captor's fate, Klink noticed.  Hogan's eyes told him another story.  They were the eyes of a man who was tired and wanted to return to his home and family.

            Hogan opened his mouth to continue, but never got a chance as a car approached the main gate.  The two men watched as the guards opened the gate and admitted the car.  Klink shrugged and looked at Hogan as the car pulled up and parked in front of them.  He wondered what was about to happen.


	5. Nightmare Come True

_Author's Note:  This portion of this story contains elements from episode #89, "The Collector General" written by Laurence Marks.  Others own the Hogan's Heroes characters._

Beyond the End – Part 5

By Diane Maher

            Klink watched anxiously as the car was admitted as usual by his men at the gate.  He was amazed that any of them were still at their posts.  Perhaps they didn't believe what he had announced over the loudspeakers.  He asked, "Hogan...what will happen to me?"

            Hogan looked at Klink thoughtfully.  Glancing nervously around him, Klink noticed that the compound was empty except for the few of his guards still on duty at the main gate.  Just as Hogan was about to reply, the car stopped in front of the administration building.  Hogan shrugged and said, "Let's first find out who just arrived, Kommandant.  Just act like nothing unusual has happened."

            Klink nodded, put his riding crop under his arm and walked over to the car.  He opened the rear door of the car and hastily saluted the portly officer who emerged from it.  "What can I do for you? General…um, General?" stammered Klink.

            "I am General Metzger.  I was here for a short while last year," Metzger said.  "I see that you don't remember me."

            The general looked at Hogan and said in an icy tone, "You are Colonel Hogan? Perhaps you remember me? " Klink shrugged and glanced at Hogan for his reaction.

            Hogan looked at their visitor a moment before folding his arms across his chest and nodding.  "Yes, it's been a while, General."

            "What are you doing here, Herr General?" asked Klink weakly from behind Metzger.

            "Klink! Do you have any idea what is going on? What has happened in Berlin?" demanded Metzger as he whirled to face Klink.

            Klink shook his head silently and noticed that Metzger was becoming more irritated by the moment.  He wondered why as Hogan came to stand next to him.

            "I heard the announcement in the car on the way here.  The Führer is dead and Berlin has fallen to the Russians," Metzger replied, his eyes wild with fury.

            Hearing this, Klink and Hogan gaped in amazement.  Klink's tone was wary as he asked, "The Führer is dead?!?"

            Klink realized that it was only a matter of time before the Allies arrived to liberate Stalag 13.  His country was defeated, its cities were destroyed and he was now a prisoner in his own camp.  He felt depressed and wondered again what would happen to him once the Allies arrived at what was once his domain.  Hogan hadn't answered that question.  Recovering his senses, he asked, "General what are you doing here?"

            "I'm here to collect…" began Metzger.

            "So old scramble brains finally did himself in?" asked Hogan.  Klink noticed Hogan was as sarcastic as ever. 

            Metzger glared at Hogan.  Klink noticed this and asked, "What is going on, Herr General?"

            "The last time I was here, Hogan stole my valuable property!" Metzger replied.

            Klink blinked, confused.  He looked first at Hogan and then at Metzger.  "What do you mean, Hogan stole your property?"

            "The last time I was here, if you recall, I was transporting some valuable ammunition which I stored in a nearby mine.  However, I believe that Hogan stole that ammunition from that mine and is hiding it somewhere in this camp.  I need that ammunition if I'm to make it safely to Switzerland."

            Metzger must be a raving lunatic, Klink thought.  How could Hogan – one of his prisoners – escape, steal ammunition and hide it in this camp, all under his very nose?

            "But Herr General, Hogan is a prisoner here! How could he have done these things?" asked Klink.

            With narrowed eyes, Metzger replied, "He did them with your help.  After all, it was your guards at the mine, so they would know what actually was inside.  They came back and told you."

            "Why would I do such a thing?" asked Klink.

            "Because you wanted it all for yourself! Perhaps that fat guard Schultz told Hogan and then he confronted you with his knowledge of the mine's contents.  Then the two of you plotted to make it look like a commando raid had stolen the paintings."  Metzger frowned as he realized his slip of the tongue.

            "You're mad," Klink stated flatly.  "There are no paintings in this camp.  I thought you said it was ammunition."

            "Perhaps I am mad, and it no longer matters that you know the truth of what it was.  But you will assist me in retrieving my paintings now, Klink."  Pulling out his Luger, Metzger pointed it at Hogan and shouted, "Colonel Hogan, I demand that you return them to me immediately!"

            "General, what are you doing?" asked Klink, terrified of what this lunatic might do to him.

            "I'm forcing Colonel Hogan to tell me where my property is and if he doesn't, he will be shot as an escaping prisoner.  You will verify that he was an escaping prisoner in your camp records."

            Klink looked around and saw how empty the compound was.  Prisoners had now replaced his men as guards at the gate and presumably in all the towers.  They were in complete command now.  Klink felt like a tremendous weight had been lifted from his shoulders with this realization and relaxed for a moment before focusing his attention back on Hogan and Metzger.

            "You're not in a position to demand anything, General," Hogan said calmly.

            Metzger looked at Klink, confused.  Klink shrugged and said, "I'm not in command here anymore, Herr General."

            Metzger glared at Klink and then at Hogan before shouting, "Klink, you fool! What kind of soldier are you?" The gun remained pointed at Hogan.

            "I'm a soldier who's tired of this pointless war," Klink replied, his tone weary.

            This statement further enraged Metzger.  His face contorted into an evil grin. "Klink, I know that you're not following orders."

            "What do you mean?" demanded Klink, his eyes wide with fear as he took a step back from Metzger.

            Metzger laughed evilly, "I know that you are not killing the prisoners as the Führer ordered.  And since you're not, then I will!"

            At that moment, Kinch came out of the administration building.  Metzger turned and fired, hitting Kinch in the leg.  Stunned, Klink stood as if paralyzed.

            Enraged that Metzger had wounded Kinch, Hogan lunged for Metzger and knocked the gun from his hand.  Metzger brought up his fist and punched Hogan in the face.  Hogan staggered backwards a step, stunned.  He quickly recovered his wits.  Balling his hand into a fist, he slugged Metzger in the gut.  The fat general fell to his knees.

            Looking around, Klink saw the guards at the gate and in the tower were looking outside the wire for the source of the shot.  No one else was about to stop the two men from fighting.  He wondered why no one was running towards them.  Then he heard the sounds of celebration coming from the mess hall.  Klink looked over at Kinch.  The black American, his face twisted in pain as he held his injured leg, pleaded silently with his eyes for him to save his commander's life.  He didn't seem in immediate danger of dying.  Klink turned his attention back to the fight between Hogan and Metzger.

            Klink stepped back as the fight escalated.  He stood there dumbfounded and watched the two combatants throw punch after punch.  Something struck the sole of his boot.  Looking down, Klink saw the dull sheen of Metzger's gun.  Someone had kicked it toward him.

            Klink squatted down, picked up the gun, stood and fired one shot into the air.  The struggling men stopped and looked towards him.  Metzger took advantage of Hogan's distraction.  He shoved his hand into Hogan's jacket pocket, found the gun inside and pulled it free.  Hogan realized what Metzger was doing too late.  Metzger brought up his fist and punched Hogan in the face as Hogan stared helplessly back at him.

            Klink stared wide-eyed, frozen in place, as Metzger raised his gun and pointed it at Hogan's chest.  Then, he heard Kinch's indrawn gasp and moan as he vainly struggled to rise and go to Hogan's aid.  The spell holding Klink was suddenly broken.

            Klink swallowed his fear, raised the gun in his hand and said, "Herr General, I can't allow you to kill Colonel Hogan."

            Metzger turned his attention away from Hogan but kept the barrel of the gun pointed at the American's chest.  The demented expression on Metzger's face as he turned to face him was enough to convince Klink of the peril facing everyone in Stalag 13 if Metzger wasn't stopped.

            "Well, Klink?" Metzger interrupted.  He then noticed Klink holding the gun towards him and erupted in insane laughter.  Metzger sneered as he momentarily lowered his gun.  "What have we here, a hero? I don't think you have the guts for it, Klink!"

            Klink's gun wobbled violently.  He curled both his hands around the butt to steady his aim.  "Perhaps not.  With Hitler dead, there's no reason to kill these prisoners."

            "Klink, have you gone mad? These are Hitler's express orders! You aren't only defying me, you are defying Hitler!" cried Metzger in stunned disbelief.

            Klink stepped to within an arm's reach of Metzger.  "No.  Hitler's dead and the war is over for us.  I will not allow you to further harm any of my prisoners."

            Enraged, Metzger again pointed the gun at Hogan's chest once more.  His finger started closing on the trigger.

            Klink flung his left arm out and knocked Metzger's gun arm upwards.  The gun flew from the general's hand and landed well away from them.

            "KLINK!!!" shouted Metzger.  "I order you...!"

            Klink brought his gun to bear on Metzger and quietly but firmly said, "No, Herr General, I will not follow any more orders from you or any other German."

            Metzger's arm came back down and he took a step towards Klink.  Klink pulled the trigger of his gun to prevent Metzger from attacking him.

            The next few moments went in slow motion for Klink.  The recoil of the gun in his hand and the deafening sound of the bullet exploding from the gun were the most fearsome things Klink had ever heard and felt in his life.

            Klink saw Metzger's expression of utter disbelief as he watched his body slump to the ground.  The gun fell from Klink's shaking hand as he dropped to his knees.

            Klink watched life leave Metzger's eyes.  Then, he realized what he had done.  "Hogan?" Klink whispered before he slumped, unconscious, to the ground.


	6. Partings Are Not Sweet Sorrow

_Author's Note:  Others own the Hogan's Heroes characters.  This part of the story contains a reference to episode # 136, "The Softer They Fall" written by Laurence Marks._

Beyond the End – Part 6

By Diane Maher

            When Klink opened his eyes, he found himself in his own room, his own bed.  Looking around, he saw that he was alone.  Slowly, he crawled from his bed and tried to stand.  His head spun and when he touched the back of his head, he winced as he felt the bandage and the lump there.  He walked slowly over to the window.

            When Klink opened the window and looked out, he could hardly believe his eyes.  Outside the gates were several tanks, each with a union jack emblazoned on the side facing the camp.  He blinked once, rubbed his eyes and they were still there.  Closing the window, he went to the door, tried to open it and found it locked.

            Klink pounded on the door with his fist and called out, "Guard?"

            "What d'ya want, ya bleedin' Kraut?" the guard on the other side of the door demanded in a gruff tone.

            "How dare you talk to me like that?" replied Klink sharply.

            "I'll talk to you any way I damn well please!" the guard said.

            Klink balled his fist in frustration and swung it at the door.  A minute later, he heard the key rattle in the lock.  He stepped away from the door and watched as it opened.

            The man who opened the door wasn't Hogan as he hoped it would be.  Instead, a grizzled veteran strode into the room.

            Mystified, Klink asked, "Who are you?"

            "I'm Major Turnbull of the British army.  Come with me," the man ordered.

            Klink put on his cap and followed the major outside, across the compound, and up the steps of the administration building.  He wondered why they were going there.

            As they entered the office, Klink noticed several of the Allied men going through the filing cabinets.

            Turnbull indicated the office.  "Go inside."

            Klink went inside and found several men going through his files and even drinking his Schnapps.  One of them picked up the spiked helmet on the desk, put it on his head and said mockingly, "Sieg Heil!"

            Angry, Klink took two steps and snatched his prized helmet from the man.  He saw that his humidor was still apparently locked.

            "Hey! Give that back!" the man demanded.

            "No.  It's mine and I won't allow an uncivilized lout like you to have it!" Klink shouted back.

            Turnbull said in a mock placating tone, "Let the bloody Kraut have 'is 'at.  You can take it from him later."

            Hogan strode into the office and Turnbull saluted.  "Dismissed," Hogan said.  He returned the salute and ordered, "Leave me alone with the prisoner."

            After the men left, Klink stared at Hogan who now sat in the chair behind his desk.  The reality hit him then and he knew that he was truly a prisoner.  Klink asked, "You wanted to see me, Colonel Hogan?"

            Hogan nodded and began, "Colonel, as you have noticed, you are under house arrest."  Klink nodded and Hogan continued, "The Allies are sending planes to a nearby airfield to take the Allied prisoners from here back to England.  Arrangements have been made to take the Germans here to a POW camp in France."

            Klink blinked and stumbled backwards into a chair.  "When will we be leaving?" he asked when he recovered his senses.

            Hogan stood, went to the window and looked out.  He said, "I'd say we're all leaving this place in the next hour or so at the latest."

            "How long have I been unconscious?" asked Klink.

            "About three hours.  You hit your head on the car's fender as you fell," Hogan replied.  "The doctor said you had a concussion, bandaged your wound from when you hit the fender and said to allow you to rest comfortably, so I had a couple of prisoners take you to your room on a stretcher."

            Klink stood, and joined Hogan at the window.  Klink watched as the now ex-prisoners climbed aboard the trucks with looks of glee that they were free and going home.  The Englishman Newkirk, the little cockroach, LeBeau.  Oh how I'm going to miss those wonderful meals he cooked! thought Klink wistfully.  Carter joined Newkirk and they helped the black American, Sergeant Kinchloe up on the truck, followed by LeBeau.

            Klink remembered his decision to transfer Kinchloe from Stalag 13.  General Burkhalter had been furious at Battling Bruno's loss to the black American in the boxing match they'd set up at Stalag 13 despite the fact that Bruno had been declared the winner.  Burkhalter had been so furious that he nearly ordered Klink sent to the Russian front.  To save his own neck, Klink signed Kinch's transfer orders.

            The next time that Klink had asked LeBeau to cook for one of his guests, the Frenchman agreed, but as a result of the dinner, they all had a bad case of indigestion.  Klink was so mad at LeBeau that he gave him thirty days in the cooler.  Before LeBeau was taken away to the cooler, Klink asked him about the meal.  LeBeau said that he was protesting Kinch's transfer to Stalag 7.  As long as Kinch was gone, LeBeau informed him that the Bosche would continue to have indigestion from any meals that he fixed until his friend was back in Stalag 13.

            Klink had second thoughts after that and transferred Sergeant Kinchloe back to Stalag 13 from Stalag 7 just outside of Heidelberg.  Klink couldn't stomach any more indigestion.  His chances of becoming general were already slim; LeBeau's cooking was his only hope.  Looking back at the incident with Metzger, he was glad that Kinchloe was there.  If not for him, Klink realized that he might not have had the courage to help Hogan.

            Klink saw the trucks that were arriving and being loaded with more of the ex-POWs and their meager belongings.  Belongings...Klink thought and remembered his own.  Turning away from the window, he went back to his desk and sat behind it again.

            When Hogan turned away from the window, he saw Klink putting his pictures in a pile.  Someone knocked on the office door.  Turnbull entered a moment later and gave Hogan a smart salute.

            "Colonel?" asked Turnbull.

            "Yeah?" replied Hogan.

            "The last of the trucks for the prisoners to be taken to the airfield are almost ready to leave.  The planes are waiting, sir," Turnbull said.  "Plus, the trucks that have returned empty are being loaded with the German prisoners."

            "Very good, Major.  Start getting the remaining ex-POWs to the planes," Hogan ordered.  "I'll ride on the last truck with my crew.  See to it that the Germans are loaded on the trucks and taken to the POW camp in France.  You and your men are responsible for getting them there safely."

            The major left to carry out Hogan's orders.  When the door closed, Klink slowly stood and said, "Well, it seems as though we'll be parting ways soon.  I...I'd like you to have these Hogan."  He handed Hogan his spiked helmet and his humidor and its key.

            Hogan took the items and his voice was quiet when he said, "Kommandant, I...uh, I don't know what to say."

            "I'd rather you have them than these...ruffians," Klink said.

            "Thank you.  I would suggest that you gather a few things, some clothes and prepare for your trip to France," Hogan said.

            Klink nodded.  He picked up the pile of pictures from his desk and was about to go through the door that led back to his quarters when he turned back to face Hogan and asked, "How is Sergeant Kinchloe?"

            "He's doing fine.  Schultz called your doctor and he came here and treated you and Kinch.  The doctor said that Kinch would limp for a while, but he would recover completely."

            Klink nodded, a wan smile on his face.  "I'm glad to hear it."

            Klink then went through the door leading to his quarters.  The hallway seemed colder than usual.  He decided to take his coat with him.  He went inside his room, pulled out a small case and began packing some of his clothes.

            When the bag was almost full, Klink looked at the pictures and knew there was no way to fit them inside the case unless he removed them from their frames.  He carefully removed them from the frames and put his military pictures in the bag and was going to put his family's pictures in his coat pocket.  A painful thought struck him then as he realized that he had condemned his own men to spend more time away from their families.  Looking at the picture of his father, Klink thought, What will happen to us now? What is in store for me?

            Someone knocked on the door, interrupting his thoughts.  "Come!" Klink called.

            The door opened and one of Turnbull's men escorted him to the compound.  All of the Germans were loaded in the trucks and ready to go, except for him.  All the ex-prisoners were gone, except for one last truck, which Hogan stood next to.  Klink strode over and said, "Auf wiedersehen, Colonel Hogan."

            Hogan turned and said, "Auf wiedersehen, Herr Kommandant.  Thanks for saving me from Metzger last night."

            "You're welcome," Klink replied and then gave Hogan a salute.

            Hogan returned the salute and then climbed aboard with his crew.  The truck's motor started and soon it rumbled away out the front gate of Stalag 13.  Klink watched as Hogan's face became more and more indistinct with distance.

            "Herr Kommandant, it is time to go," Schultz said from the rear of the truck.

            "Danke," Klink replied.  He climbed aboard the truck and sat next to Schultz.  Their truck started and rumbled out the front gate of Stalag 13.

            Klink watched as the gates receded from view.  The last truck stopped, someone jumped out, closed the gates and it then pulled away from the now deserted POW camp.  In a way, he was sad, but the war was over for him and the men of his command and for that, he was relieved.

            "Herr Kommandant," Schultz began hesitantly.  "Where are we going?"

            "When I spoke to Hogan earlier, he said that we were being taken to a POW camp in France.  He didn't say where and I didn't think to ask him," Klink replied.  He realized that the war was only over for the ex-prisoners of Stalag 13.  His journey as a prisoner was only beginning.

            The men guarding them said nothing but kept their machine guns trained on them.

            It was early that evening when the truck finally slowed down.  Klink had fallen asleep on Schultz's shoulder.  When the truck jolted to a stop, Klink started awake.

            The guards jumped down and shouted, "Out of the truck! Move it, you bloody Krauts!"

            Klink shivered in the cool evening air as he stood to get down from the truck.  Schultz followed and stood next to him as the rest of the men of his command filed out of the trucks.

            They waited in formation for several minutes before an officer appeared.  The officer's physical appearance suggested that he was younger than Hogan.

            "Prisoners! I will see that you are treated according to the Geneva Convention.  I will speak with the most senior ranking member of your group.  Would that man step forward?" the officer ordered, his British accent carrying clearly through the compound.

            Klink took two steps forward.  He felt as though a target had been painted on both his back and his chest.  He thought, Is this what Hogan felt like upon his arrival at Stalag 13?

            The officer continued, "Very well.  These men will gather your names and take the rest of you to your barracks.  You," he addressed Klink, "come with me."

            Klink followed the officer into the building and into a small office.  The officer sat behind his desk and picked up a pen and a form of some sort.

            "I am Major Crenshaw, acting as the administrator of this POW camp.  Now, tell me about yourself."

            Klink was tense as he stood there throughout the major's introduction.  The major was a medium height man with light brown hair and Klink thought the man was about in his mid thirties.  Klink resented being ordered around by a major; but that this major was even younger than Hogan, and talking to him, a full Colonel, in such an arrogant tone, made it worse.  Whatever happened to military courtesy? However, he squared his shoulders, swallowed his pride and replied, "I am Colonel Wilhelm Klink."

            The major wrote his name and rank on a form of some sort.  Looking up, he said, "Go on."

            "I was the Kommandant of Luft Stalag 13," Klink said.

            "What happened to your prisoners?" demanded Crenshaw with an angry look.

            "N-n-nothing.  I assure you, they are all fine!" Klink replied fearfully.

            "I've heard horrific stories about German POW camps littered with the dead corpses of our Allied men! Assure me of nothing!" Crenshaw shouted.

            Klink couldn't believe his ears.  This man knew about the atrocities done by the other Kommandants.

            "It's a shame they didn't kill you outright," Crenshaw scowled.

            _I didn't harm my prisoners!_ Klink wanted to shout.  He kept his mouth shut for the moment, afraid that this man would kill him.

            Klink's voice quivered slightly when he asked, "Is there anything else, sir?"

            Crenshaw replied, "Yes, you are the senior ranking POW in this camp.  As such, you are responsible for the conduct of the prisoners.  Understood? If so, then you're dismissed."

            Klink nodded and left the office.  Now he was going to find out first hand what it was like to be the senior POW.  He walked outside and one of the guards saw him and came over.

            "Come, we have a place for you," the guard said.

            Klink followed the guard into one of the closer barracks.

            The guard said, "Take any open bunk.  And your name is?"

            "Colonel Wilhelm Klink," Klink replied.

            Several of the men in the room looked up for a moment to see the newest member of their barracks before returning to what they had been doing.

            Klink found an empty bunk in the corner and was about to put his bag down on the lower bunk when one of the men said, "I suggest that you take the upper bunk.  That one is taken by that fat sergeant who just came through the door."

            Klink tossed his bag up on the top bunk, turned around and saw that Schultz was the one the man was talking about.  Schultz looked up and with a smile, asked, "Herr Kommandant? You are in this barracks?"

            Klink nodded and smiled wanly.  It was good to have his trusted aide in the barracks with him.  "It's good to see you, Schultz.  I was hoping to be put with someone I know."

            Schultz relaxed a bit and said, "Jawohl, Herr Kommandant.  Most of the men from Stalag 13 are scattered throughout the camp.  Corporal Langenscheidt and Captain Gruber are together in another barracks on the other side of camp."

            Klink nodded and looked around at their surroundings.  He was touched that Schultz still addressed him with respect.  Then, Klink muttered, "I suppose I should get settled.  I hope you don't snore."

            "My wife says I do, but she never complained about it," Schultz replied with a chuckle.

            Klink rolled his eyes to the ceiling.  He began to wonder if he had truly done the right thing, surrendering to Hogan.  After a brief roll call, Klink returned to the barracks, climbed up into his bunk and fell asleep.

            Sometime during the night, Klink woke in a cold sweat after a nightmare.  He recalled the demented look on Metzger's face and then his eyes as he died.

            Klink looked around in the darkened barracks and shivered as he remembered where he was.  Below, he heard Schultz's contented snoring.  Klink pulled his coat's collar close about himself and closed his eyes to go back to sleep.  After seeing the major's reaction to him, Klink wondered what his fate would be at the Allies' hands.


	7. Klink in the Klink

_Author's Note: Others own the Hogan's Heroes characters.  All other characters were created by me.  Please do not use them without my permission._

Beyond the End – Part 7

By Diane Maher

            The next morning, someone opened the barracks door and shouted that it was time for roll call.

            Klink opened his eyes and realized that he had not been dreaming.  He watched the men climb out of their bunks.  There wasn't an officer among them, Klink noted with dismay.  He thought, _Wunderbar__! I'm with the enlisted men as well!_

            Klink had nothing against the enlisted men as soldiers, but they weren't descended from aristocracy like himself.  There was a class distinction between officers and enlisted men, which was the way things were in the German army, in fact, in most armies of the world.  _Why should I have to mess with these men? At least I allowed Hogan to have a separate room from the men.  I deserve as much from his side as I gave him!_ Klink sat up and suddenly felt dizzy.  He forgot about the lump on the back of his head.  He steadied himself for a minute and decided to wait until everyone else was gone before climbing down from the bunk.

            Below, Schultz groaned as he climbed out of bed and stood.  He put on his uniform tunic, turned around and offered his hand to Klink.

            Klink stared at Schultz for a moment before taking the offered hand.  Pulling on his overcoat, Klink felt humiliated; if it had been anyone other than Schultz, he wouldn't have accepted the help.  Looking around, Klink saw that no one else had seen the incident.  He noticed that the barracks were similar to those in Stalag 13.  The two men went outside for roll call.  The compound resembled that of Stalag 13 in its general appearance.  He was amused that he continued to make comparisons to his camp.  Of course, Stalag 13 had been his home for the last three years.  How could he not make comparisons to it?

            Schultz waited for Klink to precede him out the door.  The two men walked down the double row of prisoners and stood at the end of the line next to one another in the brisk morning air.  "Herr Kommandant," Schultz began.

            "Dummkopf! Don't call me that anymore!" muttered Klink.

            Shrugging, Schultz whispered, "Look at all the men's faces.  None of them look glad that the war is over for us."

            Klink looked around at the men they stood with.  Most had forlorn expressions on their faces; their uniforms were either torn in places, or were just dirty and well-worn.  Looking back at Schultz, he whispered in reply, "Schultz, we are prisoners of the Allies, our enemies in this war, in case you forgot.  All of us are waiting for judgment at their hands."

            Schultz was perplexed when he replied, "Why? We haven't done anything."

            "I know; we personally haven't done anything, but…but I…" Klink was choked up and couldn't continue.

            "Sir, you didn't kill your prisoners.  I was there, remember?" asked Schultz.

            Klink nodded in agreement.  "Crenshaw doesn't agree with you.  The man despises me and I've only been here less than a day.  How will I deal with him?"

            With a shrug, Schultz replied, "You'll do the right thing for us, Herr Oberst."

            Klink looked at his long-time aide and whispered, "I hope you're right, Schultz.  Danke."

            A man came up to them and counted them.  The man was shorter than either Klink or Schultz, but was no less of a man for it.  He looked strong; his arm muscles filled the sleeves of his tunic.  "I'm the sergeant in charge of your barracks.  My name's Hawkins.  You two came in last night, eh?"

            "Yes, we did," replied Klink.

            "Oh, we've got a couple o' Jerries who speak English," chortled Hawkins.

            Klink frowned, shook a fist in the air and replied, "Obviously, you dummkopf!"

            Hawkins chuckled good-naturedly.  "Good ta see ya got a sense o' humor, mate.  You'll need it 'ere," he replied sarcastically.

            Klink shook his head in amazement and thought, _These are the people that defeated Germany? I can't believe this man's impertinence!_

            At that moment, Crenshaw came out of the administration building and strode across the compound with two men flanking him.  His stride was more like a strut.  Each of the two men with him carried machine guns.  Crenshaw began, "For those of you who are new prisoners here, my name is Major Crenshaw and I am your commandant."  He looked at the prisoners and continued, "You will obey the rules of this camp or be severely punished.  As for the rest of you, I also want to announce that you have a new senior POW officer."  Crenshaw glanced down at his clipboard before saying, "His name is Colonel Klink.  Colonel, please step forward so the men can recognize you."

            Klink couldn't believe Crenshaw's audacity.  The man had purposely forgotten his name! At that instant, he was so angry that he longed to punch Crenshaw.  But he refused to be baited.  Free or captive, he was Wilhelm Klink, and he would act as a Prussian aristocrat - a Klink - should act.  When Klink stepped out, he stood tall and dignified.  Then he saw the smug look on Crenshaw's face, and he scowled in return.

            Was this what it had been like for Colonel Hogan all these years? To stand in his place at roll call and watch me strut like a stuffed goose? Klink wondered.

            "He is located in--" began Crenshaw with an eye towards Klink.

            "Barracks 7," Klink finished.  "Surely your guard told you that!" he muttered under his breath.

            Crenshaw's aide noted the location on his clipboard.  "That is all, dismissed!"

            Klink followed the men back inside the barracks.  "Where can a man get something to eat in this place?" he asked.

            The private who had warned him not to take Schultz's bunk the night before said, "We'll get some food later today.  Yesterday morning at roll call, the commandant announced that food was being rationed due to the shortages after winter.  You won't get food until lunch.  It's not the best food either."

            Klink stared at the private incredulously.  "What, no food for the prisoners? That's against the Geneva Convention!"

            Looking at Schultz, an ironic smile came over Klink's face; he shook his head and chuckled.  He couldn't believe he had uttered those words.  How many times had Hogan said that very same phrase to him? He couldn't remember.  It must have been thousands.  Now here he was, saying those same words.

            Schultz came and stood next to Klink.  His eyes were wide and his tone was fretful when he asked, "No food? What will I do?"

            The private said quietly, "You'll lose some of that weight, Sergeant."

            Schultz self-consciously touched his great waistline.  "Colonel?"

            "I'll go and protest this to Crenshaw," muttered Klink.

            "Sir, the senior POW officer tried that yesterday," the private said.  Remembering who he was speaking to, he added, "Sorry sir, I just thought you should know."

            Klink nodded and took off his coat.  He looked for a place to hang it, but the others had hung their coats from the bunk posts.  He supposed that it would do until he could put a nail in the wall.  Looking around, Klink briefly counted the men in the room.  There were twenty.  He was surprised that there were so many men in one building.  As he recalled, there were rarely more than fifteen men in Hogan's barracks in Stalag 13.

            Since he couldn't eat until lunch, Klink decided to get as much information as he could about the prisoners in camp.  How many officers were there besides Captain Gruber and himself?

            Klink asked the private, "In what barracks was the senior POW located before I arrived yesterday?"

            The private replied, "He's over in Barracks 12."

            Klink was about to leave; then he reached up and pulled down his riding crop from its resting place between the mattress and the bunk frame.  He had placed it there so it wouldn't get lost during the night.

            Sliding his riding crop beneath his arm and feeling its familiar leather grip in his hand, Klink felt less intimidated as he headed to Barracks 12 and entered.  As he entered, the men came to attention upon seeing his rank.  Nodding in satisfaction at their respect for an officer, Klink looked around, crossed the room to where a tall, dark haired Wehrmacht Oberstleutnant stood and said, "I am Colonel Wilhelm Klink, former Kommandant of Luft Stalag 13."

            "I am Oberstleutnant Karl Geist, I was with the 12th Panzer Brigade and was captured when Frankfurt am Main fell to the Allied advance," the officer replied as he came to attention.

            "At ease," Klink said.  "Oberstleutnant, please come with me.  I'd like to take a walk so we can talk in private."

            "Jawohl, Herr Oberst," replied Geist.  As they left the barracks, he continued, "They let you keep your riding crop?"

            Klink nodded.  "I suppose that little scrap of a major doesn't care one way or the other.  He despises me anyway."

            "Why?" asked Geist.  "He doesn't know you and yet you seem pleasant enough."

            Klink grinned.  "You hardly know me, Geist.  You remind me a lot of the man who was the senior POW officer at Stalag 13."

            Geist chuckled.  "Should I be offended by that statement?"

            Shaking his head, Klink replied, "Crenshaw despises me because I was a POW Kommandant.  Somehow, he found out about what happened at most of the camps."

            Geist frowned.  "What happened?"

            Klink looked around anxiously to make sure that they were alone.  "Our late Führer ordered all camp Kommandants to kill all of their prisoners."

            "Mein Gott!" replied Geist, his eyes wide with incredulity.  "No wonder Crenshaw hates you! Did you go through with it, sir?"

            Klink's hand tightened around the leather grip of his riding crop and he looked down at it for a moment.  When he looked up again and his gaze met Geist's, he whispered, "No.  I couldn't go through with it.  I surrendered the camp to the senior POW."  His shoulders slumped and he looked down at his feet, ashamed.  "As a man who's been in battle with the enemy, I suppose you think I'm a coward."

            His eyes wide with astonishment, Geist asked, "You disobeyed Hitler's direct orders and you're still alive?" 

            "I'm alive only because the man who came to check whether I followed those orders is dead."

            Geist swallowed nervously.  "Did your prisoners kill him?"

            Again Klink shook his head.  "I did.  The general that came to camp threatened to kill the senior POW and my conscience wouldn't allow that.  I feared for the lives of the men of my command if Colonel Hogan was killed.  The then ex-prisoners might have decided to kill all of us if he was killed."

            Geist was silent as Klink continued, "I knew that Hitler was dead by then and his order was insane.  I couldn't follow it and that's how I wound up here in this place."

            "I commend you for doing the right thing, Herr Oberst," Geist said, amazed.  "As for how Crenshaw found out, there were some former Allied prisoners who managed to escape and arrive here from one of the camps where the prisoners weren't so lucky.  They told him of what happened to their comrades."

            Klink visualized the carnage with a shudder.  It could have so easily happened at Stalag 13.  Glad that he had prevented it in his camp, he put the image behind him and nodded.  "Geist, I need to know how many officers there are in this camp and where they are.  Also, can you give me a tour of this place?"

            Geist replied, "There aren't many officers here.  Besides the two of us, there are two others.  I had problems with one; he's a major from the Gestapo.  The other man arrived with you, sir.  Captain Gruber is in Barracks 9."

            Klink reached up, removed his monocle, cleaned it with his handkerchief and then put it back on his eye.  "Captain Gruber was my adjutant at Stalag 13.  This Gestapo man's been giving you problems? What sort of problems? Where is he?"

            Geist nodded.  "The Gestapo man is in Barracks 1.  His name is Major Erich Heinzmann.  He has been stirring up the prisoners trying to provoke them to escape.  I'll introduce him to you."

            "I see," commented Klink with a hint of a frown.  "I want you to help me keep the men in line, including him.  That idiot is likely to get all of us killed by Crenshaw."

            "Jawohl, Herr Oberst," Geist replied solemnly.  "I've pulled rank on him to try to get him to stop and he has for the last week.  I would expect him to try something now that I'm no longer the senior POW here."

            "I'll keep that in mind.  Tell me, have there been many escapes from here?" inquired Klink.

            "A few have tried, but most of the men are content to not have to fight and die for a lost cause.  Since I've been here, there have been five escapes.  Several others were shot trying to escape."

            Klink cringed when he heard this.  He had always threatened to have the guards shoot anyone trying to escape from Stalag 13, but it had never been necessary.  His prisoners immediately surrendered when they were captured outside the wire.  "Were those men inspired by Heinzmann?" asked Klink.

            Geist nodded and answered, "My first night here as senior POW was shattered by gunfire outside and then having to go and see three men lying dead outside the wire, here."  Geist pointed at a spot outside the fence and they continued on their tour of the camp.

            Klink heard his stomach growl.  "Do the officers eat with the enlisted men?"

            "Jawohl," replied Geist with a grin.  "The mess hall is fairly small.  It's that building over there."  Geist indicated the building with the sign reading, 'Mess Hall' over the double doors.  There were men approaching the building.  He looked at his watch and said, "It's time for lunch.  We'd best get over there.  It's first come, first served.  Most of the barracks have one or two prisoners obtain what food they'll need from there and cook it on the stoves in their barracks.  That way, they don't have to put up with the Allied guards.  It keeps the tempers cool among our men."

            Klink nodded and they headed over to the mess hall.  Schultz saw Klink heading that way and followed.  They were among the first arrivals at the doors.  Once they entered, Klink saw that the mess hall was like every other mess hall he'd been in during his military career.  The difference was that he didn't recognize some of the smells.

            Geist led the way to the chow line.  He picked up a tray and some utensils.  Klink and Schultz did the same.  After going through the line and seeing the scowls of the men grudgingly serving the food, and hearing their angry muttering, Klink understood why most of the prisoners consumed their meals in the barracks.

            As the three men sat to a table in the corner, Klink said, "Geist, this is my aide, Sergeant Schultz.  Schultz, this is Oberstleutnant Geist, formerly of the 12th Panzer Brigade."

            Schultz swallowed a mouthful of food before responding, "It's a pleasure to meet you, Herr Oberstleutnant."  He saluted after putting down his utensils.

            Geist returned Schultz's salute.  "I thought that as an officer you didn't dine with the enlisted men, Herr Oberst."

            "Schultz has eaten many meals in my presence in the past," Klink replied.

            "The food is not poisoned, Herr Komm-, uh Oberst," said Schultz with a shrug at his slip of the tongue.

            Klink closed his eyes for a moment and shook his head.  It would take Schultz a long time to stop calling him Herr Kommandant.  "Very good, Schultz."

            "You use this man as a food taster?" inquired Geist, as his brow rose with curiosity.

            Klink grinned.  "We used to have gourmet meals at Stalag 13.  He always tasted them before I got to eat."

            "How was it possible for you to eat gourmet meals in a POW camp?" asked Geist, incredulous.

            Klink speared a piece of potato from his plate and popped it in his mouth.  "We had a French prisoner who was an excellent chef.  However, if I wanted to utilize his services, it usually required giving the prisoners extra light, or extra writing paper or something like that.  It was another privilege that Colonel Hogan and I negotiated between us."

            Geist looked at Klink in wonder before commenting, "I see.  It sounds like your prisoners were well treated."

            Klink said proudly, "We never had an escape from Stalag 13."

            "Not one? I'm surprised.  Usually the Allied men would be chomping at the bit to get back to their own lines.  But not at Stalag 13?" asked Geist, surprised.

            "There were over three hundred attempts at escape, but none of them were successful.  I am very proud that I didn't have to resort to browbeating the men like Crenshaw does," said Klink with a frown.

            The three men consumed their meal in silence as more of the guards entered the mess hall.  During this time, Klink wondered about what his responsibilities as senior POW were.  His first day as a POW had gone fairly smooth so far.  He hoped it would continue.

*           *           *           *           *           *           *

            Later that afternoon, after visiting all of the barracks in camp, Geist and Klink headed for Barracks 1.  _It's time for me to meet this Gestapo officer, thought Klink._

            As Schultz opened the door of Barracks 1 for the officers, Klink smoothed his uniform and made sure every hair was in place.  The two officers entered, leaving Schultz outside.  He supposed that Schultz would listen at the door.  Or in his case, fall asleep listening at the door.

            When Klink and Geist walked into the barracks, there was a poker game in progress, but the men put down their cards and came to attention.  Klink inspected each man briefly.  Nodding in satisfaction, he looked around the room for the Gestapo man.  A short, blonde haired man wearing a black uniform with a red armband on it strode over to see what was going on.  He had a towel draped over his shoulders and his hair was damp.  Seeing the newcomer, the major stopped, clicked his heels together and saluted.

            "Heil Hitler!" the major said.  "I am Major Heinzmann, formerly of the Gestapo."

            Klink stood tall, acknowledged the major's salute, and began, "I am Colonel Klink.  Major, I..."

            Behind them, the door opened.  A guard entered and barked, "Klink! The commandant wants to see you!"

            Klink turned and snapped, "That's Colonel Klink to you! I'll be there in a minute!"

            The guard growled, "When the commandant says now, he means NOW!"

            Klink didn't want to appear weak in front of this ex-Gestapo man, but he also didn't want to anger Crenshaw.  He shrugged and followed the guard out of the barracks and to the administration building.  He noticed the car parked in front of the building.  They had visitors.  Maybe it was the Red Cross inspector and he could complain about the lack of food his men were getting.

            When Klink was admitted to Crenshaw's office, he said, "Colonel Klink reporting as ordered."  Klink thought, _I don't' believe this! I sound like Hogan again!_

            Crenshaw stood and said, "Gentlemen, this is the senior POW..."

            The officer accompanying the civilian said incredulously, "By George, it is you!"

            Klink turned as the Englander approached and found himself face to face with none other than Colonel Crittendon.  His jaw dropped in amazement for an instant, but then he regained his composure, saluted him and replied, "It's good to see you, sir."

            Crittendon returned the salute.  "Hope these chaps are treating you well, Klink."

            "I've only been here since yesterday," replied Klink.  _And I hate it already!_

            Crenshaw interrupted their brief reunion and suggested, "Why don't we go ahead with the inspection?"

*           *           *           *           *           *           *

            Geist followed Klink and the guard out of the barracks.  Heinzmann also followed and watched as Klink crossed the compound.  Schultz was rubbing his eyes from his brief nap.  Geist watched as Klink scrutinized the car parked in front of the administration building.  As the portly Sergeant left his spot next to the door, Heinzmann gave Schultz a glare that were it fire, would have melted his helmet.

            Geist saw by the look on Schultz's face that he thought it prudent to be as far from Heinzmann as he could get.  Geist walked calmly over so that he stood between Schultz and Heinzmann.  As Schultz sidled away past the officers, Heinzmann turned towards him.  Schultz hastily saluted both officers and Heinzmann spat, "This Klink won't defend us against the Allies.  What good is he?"

            Schultz stopped and said indignantly, "The Colonel will do what is right for us!"

            "How would you know?" demanded Heinzmann with a scowl.

            "I've served with Colonel Klink for several years," replied Schultz.

            The three men watched the events as they unfolded before them.  Crenshaw, Klink, an officer of some sort and civilian who had a red cross on a white armband came out of the administration building.

            Heinzmann spat, "Look at Klink, kissing Crenshaw's boots!"

            Schultz looked towards the inspection party and said ingenuously, "I don't see the Colonel kissing anyone's boots!"

            "Dummkopf! It's a figure of speech!" Heinzmann muttered angrily.

            "Major, leave the Sergeant alone!" ordered Geist.

            Heinzmann glared angrily at Geist and muttered something under his breath before turning away and storming back to his barracks.

            "Herr Oberstleutnant, what did he say?" asked Schultz.

            "You don't want to know.  He's one man who I wish would either escape or get shot trying," replied Geist quietly.

            Schultz stammered fearfully, "I know nothing!"

            "Sergeant," said Geist.  "Don't worry; I have no plans to kill anyone.  Even Heinzmann doesn't deserve such an easy way out."

            Schultz's eyes grew wider as he saw a knowing look in Geist's eyes and an amused twitch in the corners of his mouth.  It reminded him of the way Colonel Hogan always looked before something happened at Stalag 13.  "What do you mean?"

            Geist shook his head.  "I thought you wanted to know nothing, Sergeant."

            Schultz nodded and ran to his barracks.  Geist stood alone in the compound now, as the prisoners nearby had run for cover when Heinzmann came storming out of his barracks.  Geist looked around and saw Klink walking with Crenshaw and the other two men.  He wondered what was going on.


	8. What Is Going On Here?

_Author's Note:  This chapter contains modified elements from episode 41, "Tanks for the Memory" and episode #139, "Standing Room Only" both written by Laurence Marks._

Beyond the End - Part 8

By Diane Maher 

  
  


          Klink walked behind Crenshaw and the Red Cross inspector, a dark haired, goateed, gray suited civilian wearing wire-rimmed glasses who methodically checked off points on his clipboard.  Colonel Rodney Crittendon of the RAF paced beside him in silence, his brow furrowed and his mouth a thin line.  Klink stole a surreptitious glance at him.  The Englishman seemed aloof and Klink didn't know what to expect from him.  Glancing back towards Barracks 1, Klink saw Geist standing there alone, with his arms crossed over his chest, his brow furrowed and a slight frown on his face as though he was deep in thought.  _What is he thinking?_

          Crittendon quietly asked, "Colonel Klink, what happened to your prisoners? I heard that a lot of men were killed because of Hitler's last order."

          Klink lowered his voice, "I surrendered Stalag 13 to Colonel Hogan.  I couldn't carry out that monstrous order.  All my prisoners were freed, unharmed by me or my men, by the Allied forces that arrived shortly afterward.  I'm sure they're back in England by now.  My men and I were brought here by those same Allied forces that arrived at Stalag 13 shortly after I surrendered the camp."

          "Good show, old boy.  I'm glad to see that you did what was right," Crittendon said with a grin.

          "Herr Colonel, what are you doing here?" asked Klink.

          "They've put me in charge of the POW camps in this area," replied Crittendon.  Klink gaped in amazement.  He saw the irony of his predicament.  A former prisoner was now one of his jailers.

          Klink looked away from Crittendon and saw that Crenshaw and the inspector were talking as they stood just inside the fence near a guard tower.  Crittendon and Klink walked over to where the two men were standing and followed them as they continued their tour through several buildings and around the camp.  The inspector examined the barracks, the mess hall and even the latrines with a fine-toothed comb.  At one point, they came across Schultz and Klink noticed the inspector frowned as he looked at the portly sergeant.

          The inspection party returned to Crenshaw's office.  The inspector carefully pocketed his pencil and looked over his wire-rimmed glasses.  "It seems that everything is in order here, Major Crenshaw.  Do you have any complaints, um, Colonel Klink?" asked the inspector.

          Klink blinked his eyes and then replied, "The prisoners would like more food."

          The inspector nodded.  "So would half of France.  However, due to the combination of the harsh winter and the scorched earth policy of you Jerries, I'm afraid that you'll have to live on what you're getting now."

          "So you don't abide by the Geneva Convention?" asked Klink scornfully.

          Crenshaw turned his gaze towards Klink and stared at him.  It seemed to Klink that Crenshaw was furious if he even dared to open his mouth.  Crenshaw's boorish mannerisms reminded him of Major Hochstetter.

          To Crenshaw, Crittendon said, "Be glad we don't plan to send more prisoners here.  We're shipping most of the Generals and staff men to London for more intensive interrogation.  Many of them will be tried as war criminals."

          Klink heard this and froze.  He swallowed nervously.  The generals of the Third Reich were being taken to London? He wondered whether General Burkhalter was one of those captured.  _Will they try me as a former POW camp Kommandant? Maybe they know about the murder of General Metzger and will try me for that?_ Klink shuddered at the thought of being tried for anything.  He suddenly wanted to run back to his barracks, crawl under the blanket on his bunk and hide.

          Crittendon lightened up the mood somewhat as he looked around disapprovingly and said, "Major, why don't you plant some geraniums around this place? It would boost the morale of your men and the prisoners."

          "What do you mean, plant geraniums, sir? asked Crenshaw, mystified.

          Crittendon swept his arm in an arc, indicating the dreary compound, the bleak landscape.  "It was something that I once suggested to the British High Command.  The whole idea was to boost the morale of our flying chaps when they returned home.  They named the whole thing after me - the Crittendon Plan.  I think I'll put out a memo to all of the POW camps in this area.  I'll set up a contest with the winning camp getting more food as the prize.  What do you think, Major?"

          "But why do you want to boost the morale of the enemy?" asked Crenshaw.

          "These men are human beings, Major.  The war is over as far as they are concerned," Crittendon replied.

          "They're bloody Krauts and don't deserve the food they're getting now," retorted Crenshaw angrily.

          "Then think of it as a way to de-Nazify them," Crittendon said calmly.

          "What? Planting bloody flowers isn't going to de-Nazify these men!" Crenshaw's tone rose a notch with each of Crittendon's replies.

          "Geraniums, Major."  Crittendon frowned at Crenshaw's attitude.  "And I shall return to see how you are treating these men.  I expect things to be running smoothly."

          Crenshaw glared at Crittendon and replied through gritted teeth, "Yes suh!"

          Klink suppressed a smile as he watched Crenshaw's face become tomato red with his anger and unuttered curses.  "I like the idea."

          Crittendon said, "Good show, Klink."  Crittendon commended him with a hearty smile.  Crenshaw turned and stared at Klink and Crittendon continued, "I take it that you'll see to it that the prisoners in this camp participate?"

          Klink nodded and said, "I'm sure I won't have any problems in finding at least one volunteer.  He'll do anything for food."

          Crittendon burst into laughter.  "You must mean Schultz! He's the only one I know that will do anything for food."

*        *        *        *        *        *        *

          Geist had followed the inspection party at a discreet distance.  He listened as Klink talked to the English officer.  They seemed to be acquainted.  As he walked past Barracks 9, Captain Gruber came out.  Geist motioned for him to come over.

          "Captain, you served with Colonel Klink for some time, correct?" inquired Geist.

          "Jawohl, Herr Oberstleutnant.  I have the utmost respect for Colonel Klink," replied Gruber.

          "Tell me, how does Klink know this English officer?" asked Geist.

          "Unless you know his name, I'd have to see the officer's face," replied Gruber.

          "I believe the name I heard was Crittendon," said Geist.

          "Ja.  I remember him too.  Colonel Crittendon was a prisoner at Stalag 13 for a short while," said Gruber.

          Nodding, Geist said, "I see."

*        *        *        *        *        *        *

          Late that night, the alarm bells startled Klink awake.  He climbed down from his bunk, grabbed his cap and opened the barracks door.  A moment later, the bells were silenced.  He saw some guards near the fence outside of Barracks 1 surround and then escort several men inside the administration building.  Klink shook his head in aggravation at having his sleep disturbed.  _I know my duty as senior POW, but do I have to do it in the middle of the night?_

          The sentry stationed at the door grabbed Klink's arm as he was about to enter the administration building.  Klink yanked his arm away.  "What are you doing?" he demanded.

          "No one is allowed inside by orders of the commandant," said the guard.

          "Nonsense," Klink protested as he pushed past the guard.

          "If you go in there, you'll share their punishment," the guard warned.

          "What?" asked Klink with a twinge of fear in his voice.

          A door on the other side of the room opened and Crenshaw came through, dressed in a red velvet smoking jacket and pajamas.  The Englander didn't even notice Klink standing in the door of the outer office and the sentry behind him said nothing to alert Crenshaw.

          Klink scrutinized Crenshaw's appearance and frowned disdainfully.  He thought Crenshaw was dressing above his station and overly gaudy at the same time.  _Crenshaw thinks he's sophisticated by wearing the smoking jacket over his pajamas.  HA! At least my smoking jacket looked good and fit properly.  He looks like he's about to pop the buttons with that beer belly of his! Crenshaw went into his office; Klink followed him inside, and found three men standing there - Corporal Langenscheidt, Captain Gruber and Oberstleutnant Geist._

          Crenshaw went behind his desk.  "What have we here? A few chickens trying to fly the coop?"

          Sergeant Hawkins, the guard next to them, reported, "I caught these prisoners trying to escape.  They were at the fence near Barracks 1."

          Crenshaw frowned, "Your punishment is thirty days in the cooler for attempted escape."  He seemed to notice Klink for the first time since entering the office and said, "Him too!"

          "What? I wasn't anywhere near the fence when the alarm sounded!" protested Klink. "I was sound asleep in my bunk!"

          "Did you not hear what the guard outside this building said to you?!" shouted Crenshaw.

          "I heard!" shouted Klink.

          Klink crossed the room.  Crenshaw came around the desk, his eyes wild with anger.  If he were taller, he would have been nose to nose with Klink.  "And yet you still came in here?!"

          Klink met Crenshaw's angry gaze, his eyes blazing.  "Yes.  You have three prisoners in here and as the senior POW officer, it is my right and my duty to be here for my fellow prisoners.  I demand to hear their side of the story!"

          "What side of the story? They were found at the fence!" Crenshaw shouted.

          "We weren't trying to escape," interrupted Geist.

          "What the bloody hell were you trying to do?" asked Crenshaw.

          "We were looking for Langenscheidt's missing ring," replied Geist.

          "What?!?" Crenshaw asked, incredulous.

          "Ja, we were looking for my ring.  My girlfriend gave it to me a few weeks ago and it must have gotten lost during our exercise period earlier today," Langenscheidt added.

          "And we thought there was something shiny on the ground over by the fence," said Geist.

          "How could this be? I was certain that you were escaping!" Hawkins exclaimed.

          Klink smugly folded his arms across his chest and waited for Crenshaw to respond.  Crenshaw looked towards Klink and frowned before finishing, "I'll reduce their sentences to five days in the cooler for being out of the barracks at night and you will not have to share their punishment, Klink.  Satisfied?"

          To Geist, Klink asked, "Did you find the ring?"

          "Jawohl, Herr Oberst," replied Langenscheidt.  He held out his hand with the ring on it as proof.

          Klink turned to Crenshaw and said, "Major, the man now has his ring back.  Give them the benefit of the doubt."

          Crenshaw frowned and muttered, "All right.  I'll let them off the hook this time, Colonel Klink.  Next time, they – and you - won't be so lucky.  Dismissed!"

          "Danke, Herr Major," Klink said through gritted teeth.  He would speak to Geist tomorrow to find out what was really going on or if the ring was truly the reason for all this mess.  He glanced at Geist.  _What is going on and what role did this man play in it? Why would they be looking for a ring in the dark near Barracks 1?_ He made a mental note to speak to Geist first thing in the morning after roll call.

  
          As they left Crenshaw's office, Geist came over to Klink and was about to say something when Hawkins intervened.  "Back to your barracks!" he barked.

          Klink strode over to his barracks, entered and removed his cap.  He hung it on the bunk post over his coat and then climbed up to his bunk.  Once he was settled, Klink found that he was unable to sleep.  He tossed and turned, willing himself to forget the incidents of the day and relax.  Lying on his back, Klink closed his eyes and found himself thinking of Sofia Lindemann.

          _Ah, my dear, lovely Sofia! Klink thought wistfully.  He could see her beautiful brown eyes, her long, lustrous red hair and smell her perfume as he held her in his arms.  He recalled hearing Schultz describing Sofia Lindemann to Colonel Hogan as 'the local tomato'.  Such an inadequate description of Sofia, yet it was true of her as a woman.  Her lips were red and her kisses were every bit as juicy as a tomato._

          With a lascivious grin, Klink focused on his inner vision of Sofia again.  He remembered how her womanly curves pressed against his body as he last held her; the taste of her lips as they kissed and the softness of her skin as his hand cupped her cheek.  _Oh how I long to be with you, to touch you and experience the sheer bliss I feel when I'm with you!_

          The next thing Klink knew Schultz was shaking his shoulder, murmuring that it was morning and time for roll call.

          "Why do you want me to nibble your ear, Herr Komm…I mean, Herr Oberst?" began Schultz.

          Klink glared at Schultz and replied flatly, "You must be joking."

          "No, Herr Ob-" Schultz got the idea and fell silent when he saw Klink's angry expression.

          Klink sat up, swung his legs over the side of the bunk and jumped down.  To his surprise, he felt well-rested despite his interrupted sleep.  _It's amazing what the love of a beautiful woman can accomplish, he thought with a soft smile.  He attributed his well-being to thinking about Sofia last night._

          When he opened the door and walked outside for roll call, Klink noticed that the visitors' car was gone.  Crittendon and the inspector must have left late last night after all the ruckus.  He found himself wishing he'd said goodbye to Crittendon.  Of all the Allied officers he'd encountered since watching Hogan leave Stalag 13, the only one who had been even remotely civilized towards him was Crittendon.

*        *        *        *        *        *        *

          During the morning roll call, Crenshaw announced the contest that Crittendon had insisted upon having.  A lot of the prisoners scoffed at first, until they heard what the prize was to be and then they cheered.

          Next to Klink, Schultz's eyes went wide with surprise.  "Herr Oberst, they want us to plant flowers for a chance of winning a contest? And the prize is more food for the prisoners?"

          Klink could practically see Schultz drooling over the prospect of more food.  "Yes Schultz.  I think it will be good for our men to have something other than our defeat to occupy our minds for a while, even if it is planting flowers."

          "The geraniums will arrive tomorrow.  Any questions?" asked Crenshaw.  Klink noticed the sour expression on Crenshaw's face when he added, "If not, you are dismissed."

  
  


          As the men dispersed, Klink headed towards Barracks 12 to speak with Geist.  Barracks 12 was situated closest to the water tower in the center of camp.  He noticed that Gruber and Langenscheidt were standing near Barracks 12 and went to speak to them first.

          "Captain, I want an explanation of your actions last night," began Klink.  "And you too Langenscheidt.  You both were stationed at Stalag 13 and you should know better than to be outside the barracks at night."

          Langenscheidt turned to Gruber and hoped that the officer would answer.  Gruber saluted Klink and replied, "Some of the other prisoners had their doubts about you.  They wondered whether you would really protect them from Crenshaw or be a cringing bootlicker, sir."

          Klink considered Gruber's reply when he turned and noticed Geist going inside his barracks.  He followed and found men racing around to cover up something in the corner of the barracks.

          "Geist, what is going on here?" demanded Klink.

          Geist folded his arms across his chest and put himself between Klink and the corner.  "Nothing's going on, sir."

          Klink walked around Geist and crossed the room to the corner.  Looking down, he saw a small pile of dirt.  "Uh huh.  I see…"

          Geist quickly ran over, covered Klink's mouth with his hand and looked up at the lamp that was above them.  Klink pulled Geist's hand from his mouth and his brow furrowed in anger.  Geist motioned for Klink to follow him outside.  Klink noticed that Gruber and Langenscheidt were no longer in sight around Barracks 12 and presumably returned to their barracks.  Geist closed the door and walked to the corner of the barracks.  He looked around the corner to make sure that no one was listening.

          "What was that for?" demanded Klink in a hushed whisper.

          Closing his eyes, Geist shook his head.  "Crenshaw has all the barracks bugged.  If I'd let you continue speaking, you might have revealed our little project.  We've covered the microphones with tape to cover the sound of our activities, but with the condition of the tape, you never know when or if it will fall off."

          "Oh, I see," commented Klink as he nodded in understanding.  "So you and the men of your barracks have been digging an escape tunnel."

          "We're just about halfway to the fence," replied Geist.  "And we don't want any trouble from Heinzmann or Crenshaw.  You're welcome to escape with us when the time comes."

          Klink rubbed his chin thoughtfully and said, "I'll think about it."  He turned to leave, but then stopped.  "Geist, what were you, Gruber and Langenscheidt doing by the fence near Barracks 1?"

          Geist replied, "Corporal Langenscheidt overheard Major Heinzmann plotting with one of his men to kill our two visitors and Crenshaw and then escape.  They had planned it for last night."

          Klink's jaw dropped in amazement.  Geist continued, "Langenscheidt returned to his barracks, told Gruber and Gruber came to me.  I suppose the reason that Gruber came to me first is that your barracks are further away from Barracks 9 than mine."

          "Why would the three of you be over there?" asked Klink.

          Geist lowered his voice.  "Because, Herr Oberst, they were going to make it look like you were the one responsible for killing them.  I couldn't tell you because I had so little notice of Heinzmann's plot.  I made the decision to stop them by creating a diversion.  The guards were more likely to watch that area since we were found there and that restricted Heinzmann's movements."

          Blinking, Klink was speechless.  He leaned against the wall to steady himself.  "Danke Geist.  I…I don't know…"

          Geist put his hand on Klink's shoulder.  "Don't worry about it, Herr Oberst.  I've nothing against you.  I want to live long enough to see the end of this miserable war."

          Klink silently nodded his agreement and left to return to his barracks.  As he walked through the compound, he saw Major Heinzmann and headed over to speak with him.

  
          "Major!" called Klink.

          Heinzmann stopped and waited just outside the door to Barracks 1.  When Klink arrived, he asked, "What do you want?" He grudgingly added, "Sir."

          "I never got to speak to you after we were interrupted the morning after I arrived.  Where were you stationed?" asked Klink.

          Heinzmann's eyes narrowed.  "I was stationed at Gestapo headquarters in Düsseldorf."

          "Did you know Major Hochstetter?" asked Klink.

          Heinzmann nodded.  "What of it?"

          "He was a frequent visitor to Stalag 13," replied Klink.

          A sneer came over Heinzmann's face and he asked, "Why, did he suspect you of being a traitor?"

          Klink's brow furrowed and his lips pursed into a straight line. "I don't have to take that from you!"

          "No, I suppose you don't.  Just remember that you asked me," Heinzmann said with a mocking salute before he turned and went into Barracks 1.

          Klink balled his fist and swung it into the air.  "Hmmph!"

          When the door closed behind Heinzmann, he could hear the man laughing.  Klink turned away. He felt his anger at Heinzmann building.  _How can I find out whether the major is trying something behind my back? wondered Klink._

          Looking up at the blue sky, Klink decided to walk and clear his mind.  As he rounded the side of Barracks 1 nearest the fence, he heard voices inside the building.

  
          "Herr Major, what about our plans to kill that fool Crenshaw and escape?" someone asked.

          Klink paused outside the slightly cracked open window and listened.  "I don't know how Geist found out about our plans, but it would have been great to frame that bumbling fool Klink for the murders," said Heinzmann.

          "Speaking of that, I have Klink's riding crop here.  What shall I do with it?" the first voice asked.

          "You'd best put it back before he knows it's gone.  Klink may be a German, but I think he's either a collaborator or a traitor," replied Heinzmann.

          "How do you know that?" the first man asked.

          "I don't.  But he was cozying up to that officer who accompanied the Red Cross inspector," Heinzmann replied.  "A friend of mine in the Gestapo was a frequent visitor to Stalag 13 where Klink used to be Kommandant.  He always suspected something fishy going on there, but could never prove any of his theories.  Either Klink is smarter than he looks, or the people investigating Klink were stupider than he is."

  
          Klink frowned as he continued on his way around the barracks.  _I thought that all the barracks had been bugged! Maybe they tore out all the microphones in that room. __ Instead of walking around the camp, he returned to his barracks.  When he entered, he reached up to where he had put his riding crop and it was indeed missing.  Although he used to carry it with him all the time at Stalag 13, it didn't seem proper now that he wasn't in charge anymore._

          Schultz entered the barracks then and moaned.  "Oh, how I wish I could have some food!"

          Klink ordered, "Schultz, go to Barracks 12 and have Oberstleutnant Geist report to me."

          "Jawohl, Herr Kommandant," replied Schultz.

          Klink was so furious at what he had over heard outside of Barracks 1 that he didn't bother reprimanding Schultz for calling him by his old title this time.  When Geist came through the door, Schultz at his heels, Klink acknowledged them with a curt nod.  He motioned for Geist to follow him outside.  They sat on a bench that was located next to the barracks.

          "What is it, Herr Oberst?" asked Geist.

          "Karl, I've just overheard Heinzmann and at least one other man discussing their plans to eliminate Crenshaw and escape," began Klink.

          Geist looked intently at Klink.  "What do you intend to do about it?"

          Klink shrugged.  "I'm not sure.  I spoke to Heinzmann and he believes that I'm a traitor."

          "Did he call you that to your face?"

          "Not exactly," said Klink, fearful.  "He thinks I'm either a collaborator or a stupid fool.  He suggested that one of his colleagues suspected me of being a traitor."

          "But you're none of those things!" whispered Geist.

          "Perhaps not to you," said Klink as his shoulders sagged and he put his chin into his hands.

          Geist leaned back on the wall of the barracks and said, "Wilhelm, you should know that the majority of the prisoners believe that you're willing to stand up to Crenshaw for us.  If Heinzmann should suffer an accident…"  He left the sentence unfinished.  Klink would have to fill in that blank himself.


	9. Will Plant Geraniums for Food

_Author's Note:  Others own the Hogan's Heroes characters.  All others are my creations.  Please don't use them without my permission._

Beyond the End - Part 9

By Diane Maher 

  
  


          As Geist saluted, they parted ways.  Klink realized that the Oberstleutnant had tested him to see what sort of man had taken over from him as senior POW.  After hearing Gruber's comments about how some of the men thought of him as a cringing bootlicker, Klink was glad that Geist had done what he'd done.

          Klink wondered if perhaps this would be his one chance to get rid of his old reputation of bungler and coward.  The more he thought about it, he realized that for his own safety as well as the good of the men, he had to change his reputation.  Among the prisoners were the men of his command.  No doubt some of them hated him for surrendering to Colonel Hogan, but he couldn't track down every man who disliked him and explain his reasons personally.  Besides, as their commanding officer, he didn't have to explain anything to them.  He wondered if perhaps he should explain to Gruber and Schultz.  Walking back to his barracks, Klink realized that his actions must speak louder than his words.

          As Klink lay in his bunk that night, he wished that he had crossed paths with Geist a long time ago.  He felt as though his eyes had been opened by his acquaintance with this man.  Oberstleutnant Geist was the kind of officer that Klink had always aspired to be.  However, in watching him and talking with him, Klink realized that as an officer, he couldn't compare to Geist and that humbled him.

          Klink wondered about Geist.  The look in Geist's eyes and some of his mannerisms reminded him of Colonel Hogan, there was a presence about him, something that made Klink feel like he could trust this man to back him up if necessary.  When they had talked, Geist hadn't told him much about himself.  He wanted to get to know him better.

  
  


          One morning, when the prisoners assembled for roll call, they saw a truck parked near the fence.  Klink and Schultz took their place in the formation just as Crenshaw strutted towards them from the administration building.

          "Today, you will begin planting geraniums," barked Crenshaw.  "And you will continue until the truck is empty.  All digging tools will be accounted for at the end of each day.  Any questions?" Crenshaw glared at the assembled prisoners as though he dared them to speak.  None of them met his gaze, except for the four officers, and even Heinzmann seemed reluctant to meet it for long.

          Klink looked at the truck, and then at Heinzmann, who merely scowled back at him.  _That man's not happy with this turn of events!_ mused Klink.

          "What is going on here?" Klink called out to Crenshaw.

          "You are to beautify the camp.  To refresh your obviously faulty memory Klink, this is a contest.  If this camp wins, you'll get more food."

          Klink's brow furrowed in anger.  He reached up, slowly removed his monocle from his eye and frowned.  "My memory isn't faulty, Crenshaw.  However, it's been a month since you last mentioned anything about the contest."

          Next to him, Sergeant Hawkins barked, "Show the commandant respect!"

          "I outrank the commandant.  He should show me respect!" Klink exclaimed indignantly.

          "Do you want to get yourself some time in the cooler?!?" demanded Crenshaw.

          "I want you and your men to show me respect!" replied Klink.

          "Sergeant, bring this man to my office," growled Crenshaw.  To the rest of the prisoners, he said, "If there are no further questions, you're dismissed."  With that, Crenshaw stormed back across to the administration building.

          Hawkins muttered, "Get moving, Klink!"

          A few minutes later, Klink stood in front of Crenshaw's desk.  "What did you think you were doing out there, Colonel?" demanded Crenshaw slamming his fist down on the desk.

          "I was merely stating the facts.  You demand unconditional respect from me when you don't give me any in return," replied Klink.  He was just holding his temper in check.

          "You are my enemy and my prisoner.  As my enemy, you deserve to die.  As my prisoner, you will be treated as a criminal.  You have very few rights."

          Klink was taken aback at Crenshaw's sudden hostility and wondered what caused it.  _Should I placate him?_ he wondered.  He tried to remember what Colonel Hogan did when he had gotten angry.  _Humph! He made me angrier.  However, I don't think it's wise to anger Crenshaw more than I already have._

          Crenshaw continued to shout at him.  "If anything like this ever happens again, you'll spend a month in the cooler! Do I make myself clear?!"

          Klink replied quietly and with dignity, "Yes, commandant.  You've made yourself clear.  However, you don't need to shout at me, I'm not deaf."

          "You certainly weren't paying attention to me," Crenshaw said.

          "Do you blame me? An arrogant fool like you..." muttered Klink.

          "What was that, Colonel?" asked Crenshaw, his lips twitching in anger.

          _Verdammt! Crenshaw heard me!_ thought Klink. "Nothing," he replied sullenly.

          "Sergeant!" barked Crenshaw.

          Hawkins came into the office.  "Yes sir?"

          "Take this man back to his barracks!" ordered Crenshaw.

  
  


          Klink watched Schultz take a box of geraniums, put it on the ground, and with Langenscheidt's help, ease himself down to his knees.  The corporal handed Schultz a small shovel.

          _How long have we been here? _wondered Klink.  _A little over a month? How much longer must we wait? Schultz appears thinner and he looks miserable and resigned._

          Someone touched his shoulder and said, "Herr Oberst?"

          Blinking, Klink turned to Geist.  "Yes?"

          "Our men are spread along the whole length of fence.  May I suggest that we officers spread out and observe them?"

          Klink looked over Geist's shoulder and saw Gruber already standing near the fence.  "I agree, but I'd like to have a few words with you.  Wait here.  I'll see to it that the Major posts himself over there and then I'll return here, out of earshot."

          As Klink walked away, he mulled over the questions he would ask Geist and why he wanted to ask them.  He approached Heinzmann and said, "Major, keep an eye on these men.  Make sure that there isn't any monkey business with the men or the guards."

          "Jawohl, Herr Oberst," Heinzmann replied.

          Klink turned and went back to where Geist stood.  Relieved that Heinzmann had spoken to him in a civil tone for once, Klink returned to where Geist stood waiting.

          "Your man Schultz is doing well, Herr Oberst," commented Geist quietly.  "But he keeps muttering about strudel."

          Klink chortled.  "Yes, I almost feel sorry for him.  He looks like he's lost a couple of pounds.  Poor Schultz! No more chocolate, no more strudel."

          Geist blinked in mild surprise.  "How would he get chocolate or strudel, sir?"

          Klink shrugged.  "I don't really know where he got the chocolate.  Perhaps he had an arrangement with some of the prisoners when their Red Cross packages arrived.  As for the strudel, there was this Frenchman who cooked for the prisoners – I even got him to cook for me on occasion – who made the best strudel I've ever tasted.  Schultz was my food taster.  He volunteered."

          Incredulous, Geist asked, "A Frenchman cooked for you without adding poison to the food?"

          "Yes.  You see, if the Frenchman cooked for me, the prisoners usually got a reward," replied Klink without a second thought.

          "Don't you realize that some officers would consider such activities fraternization?"

          Klink's relaxed expression instantly turned to one of fear.  Geist continued, "As far as I'm concerned, you needn't worry.  I'm not one of those officers."

          Klink heaved an audible sigh of relief.  He said, "The only people I ever knew who would care about something so petty were in the Gestapo."

          There was a pause as the men stopped for a break.  Geist watched the men disperse.  Then he turned to Klink.  "Colonel, how did you treat your prisoners?" asked Geist.  "Were there many escapes from your camp?"

          An impish grin came over Klink's face.  Klink drew himself erect and smiled.  "I am proud to say that no one ever escaped from Stalag 13."

          A look of horror came over Geist's face.  "You mean that you killed anyone who tried to escape?"

          "No! It wasn't like that at all!" protested Klink, aghast.  "My prisoners didn't seem to want to escape.  I mean, of course there were attempts at escape, but none were successful."

          Geist looked at him, seemed to measure him.  He calmly folded his arms across his chest and inquired, "What else did you want to talk to me about, sir?"

          Klink glanced behind him before responding, "I wanted to know more about you, Oberstleutnant Geist.  I feel like I knew more about Colonel Hogan than I do about you and he was an enemy officer."  He paused and frowned.  "Come to think of it, I didn't know a lot about Hogan either."

          Geist clasped his hands behind his back.  He watched Schultz dig a hole and gently place a geranium plant in it.  He spoke almost reluctantly.  "There's nothing special about me, Herr Oberst.  I was born in Frankfurt am Main.  My parents were aristocrats.  My sister informed me that they were killed in an air raid last year."

          "Oh.  I'm sorry to hear that.  Go on," interrupted Klink.

          "As far as my military background, you know that already," said Geist.

          Nodding, Klink said, "The 12th Panzer Brigade."

          Geist shrugged.  "That's about it."

          "That's all? No family of your own, other than your sister? No wife and children?" asked Klink.

          Geist was silent for a moment.  "I don't discuss the details of my family, Herr Oberst," he replied in an icy tone.  "Those that are still alive will remain that way."

          "Oh," Klink shivered inwardly at Geist's sudden change in tone.  He finished with a weak nod.  "Of course, I understand.  The woman I love is still in Germany."

          "Oh?" asked Geist.  His voice lost its chill.  He briefly looked down at the ground, as if trying to hide a deep emotion.

          "I worry about her day and night," whispered Klink.  "I fear that the Russians might make it to Hammelburg and possibly rape her or kill her."

          "I see.  Yes, I've heard that the Allies are not much better in that regard than the Russians.  You would think these animals could control themselves.  Our women are defenseless in the face of our nation's defeat.  It makes me sick," muttered Geist.

          Klink saw how strongly Geist felt about this.  Thinking of Sofia, he realized how helpless he was to protect her.  Hastily changing the subject, Klink said, "I hope our camp gets the extra food.  Even I am feeling weak from hunger."

          "I agree with you, sir," commented Geist.  They watched the guards hustle their men returned to work.  "Was there anything else, Herr Oberst? If not, I wish to resume my supervision of the men."

          Klink looked at his subordinate's withdrawn, austere countenance.  "Nein, Herr Oberstleutnant.  Danke," he said softly.

          Klink had stood over the men for four days, and he was faint from hunger.  He went over to a bench next to Barracks 1, sat on it and leaned against the wall.  He turned his mind towards his family but instead found himself worrying about Sofia Lindemann.  During the evenings before lights out, he had spent his time writing letters to her – letters that expressed his love for her.  Letters he could not send.  Due to the chaos in Germany, he didn't expect them to get through to her.  He only hoped that one day he would be able to tell her how he felt in person.

          One night, in the middle of his dreams of Sofia, Klink was woken by Schultz's talking about strudel in his sleep.  Closing his eyes again, Klink muttered a curse and thought, _And I was getting somewhere with her too!_

  
  


          Klink entered Crenshaw's office four days later, just after the evening roll call.  The Englander had just hung up the phone.  "How much longer do the prisoners have to put up with this gardening?" demanded Klink.

          "Colonel, I'm not in the mood to talk to you right now.  However, Colonel Crittendon will be here tomorrow to inspect this camp and will let us know then which camp has won his little contest," snapped Crenshaw.

          "That's good to know.  The men are tired of it all," said Klink calmly.

          "Oh really?!?" Crenshaw asked sarcastically.

          Klink nodded once.  "All we want is some more food, surely you can understand that?"

          Crenshaw nodded.  "I understand.  However, I can do nothing to help you until after Colonel Crittendon's visit tomorrow."

          Sniffing the air, Klink smelled food at the mess hall.  He didn't know what it was, and it didn't even smell good, but food was food.  He turned and left the office.

          As he crossed the compound to his barracks, Klink was immersed in his tumultuous thoughts and his hand repeatedly gripped the handle of his riding crop.  Major Heinzmann followed Klink inside the barracks.  When the door was closed, he sarcastically said, "Herr Oberst, I hope that you have decided to stop cozying up to that idiot Crenshaw."

          Klink turned on him with a scowl of pure anger on his face.  The men in the barracks hastily drew back from the two officers.

          Klink slapped his riding crop on the table and shouted, "How dare you speak to me - your superior officer - like I'm some kind of fool!"

          Heinzmann recoiled.  Then his eyes narrowed in anger, the muscles on his neck standing out like steel cords, he sneered, "If you had any backbone and defended us from Crenshaw, his rules and...and this stupid gardening, I might have more respect for you.  As it is..."

          Klink's lips tautened into a straight line.  "I've stood up for the men!  I went along with this whole gardening foolishness to try and get us some more food.  If you don't like it, I'm sure we can find someone to eat your share!"  He didn't have to look at Schultz to know that he was salivating.

          Heinzmann's brow furrowed.  "For the moment, I'll leave you, sir!  I would suggest that from now on Klink, you had better watch your back," he said through clenched teeth.

          Klink saw the former Gestapo agent's burning eyes.  He drew himself to his full height, set his jaw and tried not to show fear.  Heinzmann turned and left, slamming the door behind him.  Klink let out his breath in a sigh of relief.

          Klink didn't notice the men as he shook his fist at the door.  "That narrow-minded Gestapo fool! He has no idea of what I do!"

          Schultz came over and nervously asked, "Herr Kommandant, what will you do if the major returns with some of his men?"

          Klink picked up his riding crop.  All his angry bravado drained out of him.  "I don't know, Schultz.  Tell Oberstleutnant Geist that I need to speak to him now."

          "Jawohl, Herr Oberst," Schultz replied.  He looked around the room at the staring men, and leaned toward Klink, lowering his voice.  "What do you think the major is going to do?"

          "I think there will be a lot of trouble," Klink replied slowly.  He watched Schultz leave.  Then he sank upon Schultz's bunk and waited for Geist to arrive.


	10. The Return of Colonel Crittendon Who Wi...

_Author's Note:  Others own the Hogan's Heroes characters.  All others are my creations.  Please don't use them without my permission._

Beyond the End - Part 10

By Diane Maher 

  
  


          As Schultz and Geist entered the barracks, Klink looked up.  He saw Geist briefly stiffen as he sensed the air of tension in the room and a look of concern flashed across the Oberstleutnant's face.  Klink noticed the men situated near him shuffled over to the far side of the barracks as though they were wary of the officers.  Geist slowly came over to where he sat and joined him.

          "Sir?" asked Geist.

          "Sit down, Karl.  I think that Major Heinzmann is ready to kill me," said Klink.

          Geist frowned.  "Why do you say that?"

          Leaning forward, Klink placed his elbows just above his knees and sighed.  He turned and said, "We just had a discussion – if you could call it that, it was more like a quarrel - and Heinzmann told me exactly what he thought of me and how I've been doing as senior POW."

          "I see.  Obviously, it wasn't what you expected to hear," said Geist flatly.

          "No," said Klink.  "I never expected praise from a Gestapo man, but he should remember that he is among those who benefit from my dealing with the commandant.  Besides, I'm his superior officer he should respect me!"

          Geist looked around and up before continuing.  Klink nodded to indicate it was safe for them to talk.  The other prisoners were keeping their distance from the two officers.  Geist began, "Wilhelm, during my time as senior POW, I realized that I walked a fine line between the prisoners and our captors."

          "Oh? What do you mean?" asked Klink.

          "You don't want to be seen by the Allies as overly aggressive; at the same time, you don't want to appear to be a traitor to our men."

          Klink nodded.  "You understand how I feel, Karl.  Since my decision to surrender Stalag 13, I've felt like a traitor as well as a coward.  The Gestapo have called me a coward before.  Those incidents happened in the past and don't bother me.  But to be called a traitor, that's too much.  I have served my country faithfully.  I am a loyal German officer and I won't allow my fellow Germans to be mistreated.  I...I don't know how you put up with it."

          "I did what I had to, as you must now do," said Geist.

          "What happened after those men tried to escape?" asked Klink.  "I mean the ones who were shot trying to escape."

          "Crenshaw demanded that I do more to keep the men in line," replied Geist.

          "Did he threaten to put you into the cooler?" asked Klink.

          "If I didn't control the prisoners, yes," replied Geist.

          "If there is an escape, I'll probably be put into the cooler," said Klink.

          "Perhaps you will.  I am wondering why no one's been sent to interview you."

          Confused, Klink asked, "Why would anyone want to interview me?"

          Geist chuckled.  His look was far more serious when he continued, "Interview is a polite way of saying interrogate."

          Klink cringed.  "I don't want to be interrogated by anyone.  I haven't done anything wrong."

          Geist shook his head.  "That may be true, but it won't stop them once they know about you being an ex-Kommandant of a POW camp.  A man in my barracks who cleans the commandant's office told me that someone is coming to interrogate you soon."

          Klink asked fearfully, "What shall I do?"

          "Colonel, I wasn't going to tell you about this until we were ready, but the men and I in Barracks 12 were going to escape as soon as we finish our tunnel under the wire," said Geist.

          "Are you serious? You really have a tunnel?" whispered Klink, incredulous.

          Geist nodded.  "You're welcome to come with us when we escape."

          Klink thought for a moment.  "If I escape, that would leave Heinzmann as the senior POW officer.  On the other hand, what if Heinzmann were to escape?"

          "As far as I'm concerned, if Heinzmann wants to escape, let him.  He's..." Looking at Klink, Geist finished, "beneath contempt."

          "What will happen to us if he does escape?" inquired Klink.  "What would happen to the rest of our men?"

          At that instant, the light bulb over their heads went out.  Geist glanced toward the other light at the far end of the barracks.  Someone lit a candle and placed it on the table in front of the two officers.  Klink watched the light dance over Geist's troubled features.  A breeze blew through a crack in the window and plunged them into the shadows once more.

          When Geist turned to answer him, his face was completely in shadow.  "I don't know."

          "What about your tunnel?" asked Klink.  "Maybe we can leave before Heinzmann does?"

          Geist replied, "Wilhelm, you know as well as I do that not everyone can leave through the tunnel.  Also, Sergeant Schultz will not fit in the tunnel, unlike Captain Gruber or Corporal Langenscheidt."

          "Schultz is a big tub of lard, but in this place, he is a familiar face who still respects me, despite the situation we're now in because of my decision to surrender," said Klink.

          "You could leave him behind," Geist said softly.

          "No," replied Klink.  "He's always been loyal to me.  I can't repay that loyalty by leaving him in a place where there's a Gestapo maniac in charge."

          Geist was silent for a moment.  "You care about the welfare of your men.  Some would call that being soft."

          "What about you, Karl?" whispered Klink.  "What do you think?"

          "I think that your attitude is due to your being stationed in the rear and not in combat."  Geist leaned close and continued, "I've been in the position where I've had to send my friends on dangerous missions.  Sometimes they returned, sometimes they didn't.  I had to do it; I couldn't afford to let my emotions get in the way of what needed to be done."

          Klink cringed inwardly at Geist's cold practicality and nodded.  "I see."

          Geist said, "I respect you, both as a superior officer and as a person, Wilhelm.  No matter what happens, I want you to know that."

          Klink nodded and was silent as he considered the options open to him.  Geist knew that he was concerned about Schultz's well being.  Klink wondered if he was capable of leaving the fate of his men in the hands of a fanatical Gestapo agent.

          Sergeant Hawkins poked his head inside the barracks then and called, "Lights out!"

          Muttering, the prisoners settled into their bunks.  Geist finished, "Consider what I've said."

          Klink nodded absently, deep in thought as Geist left the barracks.  One of the men near the door turned off the remaining light as Klink clambered up to his bunk.  He felt the bunk sway as Schultz made himself comfortable below him.  He wondered what would happen tomorrow when Colonel Crittendon arrived.

          As the room grew quiet, Klink's thoughts wandered back to a time when Hogan had aggravated him over the leaking roof in his barracks.  It seemed so petty to him then.  _I always thought that Hogan was living lazily off the Reich, getting the food and supplies that either the German people or the military needed.  I never dreamed that what Hogan was going through was anything like this miserable camp.  But now I know what an aching stomach and shivering in a damp barracks feels like.  Maybe I treated my prisoners a little carelessly and Hogan had some right to complain.  I never treated him as bad as I've been treated._

*        *        *        *        *        *        *

          The next day was pretty much a typical day at the camp.  Klink wandered over by the fence near Barracks 1.  This time, he didn't hear anything unusual coming from the barracks.  He leaned against the wall, feeling suddenly weak and lethargic.  It was increasingly difficult to keep fit and alert without adequate food for energy.  Schultz had tightened his belt a notch or two since they'd been here.  Klink realized as he straightened up and adjusted his tunic jacket that his uniform was looser on his body than it had ever been.

          Someone called his name from behind.  Turning, he saw Sergeant Hawkins walking towards him.

          "Klink!" Hawkins called.  "The commandant wants you in his office now!"

          Klink turned and headed for Crenshaw's office.  He noticed a car parked outside and thought, _I hope that Colonel Crittendon is here and that this camp won the contest after all that hard work the men did!_ His stomach growled.

          As he walked up to the door of the administration building, Klink felt like the eyes of every prisoner in camp were on him.  He glanced nervously over his shoulder and saw Geist standing outside of Barracks 7 with Schultz.  Turning back to the door, he entered.  Inside the building, the guard on duty outside Crenshaw's office announced him.  When Klink walked into the office, Colonel Crittendon looked at him as though he didn't recognize him.

          Crittendon turned to Crenshaw and exclaimed, "Aren't you feeding these men?"

          "Of course we are! But there isn't a lot of food to go around," Crenshaw replied.  Crittendon glanced at Klink who was shaking his head.  Crenshaw shot a glare at Klink who then nodded meekly.

          Crittendon saw this and said, "Major, when the extra food arrives in this camp, these men will be served first, is that understood? I will inform the Red Cross of this inhumane treatment and there will be an official inquiry into your conduct as commandant of this camp."  To Klink he asked, "Are you willing to testify on behalf of the prisoners here?" Klink nodded.

          "But suh!" protested Crenshaw.

          "No buts Major, I warned you.  I should think that as an Englishman, you would be above such barbarism.  You've disgraced your country!" replied Crittendon.

          Klink watched impassively as Crittendon reprimanded Crenshaw.  _Did things just get better or worse? When Crittendon leaves, what will Crenshaw do to us?_

          To get his mind off the subject, Klink looked out the window.  He saw Heinzmann staring at him.  Klink steeled his gaze and tried not to visibly flinch.  His attention turned back to Crittendon who was finished lecturing Crenshaw.

          "The extra food for your prisoners will be here this evening," said Crittendon as he looked at his watch.  "I will remain here and supervise the distribution.  I take it you have some visiting guest quarters here?"

          "Yes sir.  Come with me," replied Crenshaw.  "Klink, you're dismissed."

          When the two Englishmen headed off to the guest quarters, Klink left the office and headed for the barracks.  He looked around as he crossed the compound and wondered where Heinzmann was.  He saw Geist motioning to him and went to where he stood.

          "What is it?" asked Klink.

          Geist motioned him to silence and indicated for him to follow.  They went to the far side of Barracks 7 and Geist whispered, "One of the men in Heinzmann's barracks told me he overheard the major's plans to escape."

          "Escape?" gasped Klink.  "How?"

          Geist nodded and continued, "They're setting up a diversion.  Apparently, one of them has managed to make some explosive.  I don't know where they will plant it, but you can bet that one or more people will die if they succeed.  They're expecting Crenshaw to blame you.  It's Heinzmann's hope that you'll finally see how foolish you've been to cooperate with what he calls the 'Allied scum'."

          Aghast, Klink said, "Good job.  Have your men keep an eye on them."

          Geist nodded and said, "The commandant and his guest are heading this way."

          Klink muttered, "What do they want with me now?" Geist shook his head.

          Crenshaw said, "The truck with your extra food will be here this evening.  I will make a formal announcement at the afternoon roll call."

          "Thank you," replied Klink.

          Crittendon added, "Jolly good show on winning the contest, Colonel.  You and your men deserve the extra food."

          "Thank you, Colonel.  I'm sure the men appreciate your gesture," said Klink with a grin.

          Crittendon and Crenshaw left and headed back to the administration building.

          "Amazing!" said Klink.

          "What is?" asked Geist, mystified.

          "Colonel Crittendon's attitude," replied Klink with a smirk.  "He hasn't changed a bit since I knew him as a prisoner at Stalag 13."

          "How so?" asked Geist.

          Klink replied, "He's always open with you, even if his tone is a bit arrogant and condescending."

          "And you respect him despite this condescending attitude?"

          "Crittendon is also respectful.  That's a trait that is becoming harder to find in this world we live in," replied Klink.  Geist nodded in agreement.

          Klink noticed Heinzmann watching them from a distance.  _What is he planning?_

          At the afternoon roll call, Klink listened as Crenshaw informed them of the extra food they would receive.  The men cheered.  Klink noticed Heinzmann's lack of reaction.  Schultz's expression of joy as he found they were to get more food made his agreement to participate in the gardening contest worthwhile.  Later that evening, when it was time for the prisoners to eat their meal, they headed for the mess hall.  Klink and Geist sat at a table in the corner and watched the prisoners consume their food.  They took a particular interest in Heinzmann and his companions.

          "What do you think they're planning?" whispered Klink.

          "Whatever it is, they've already placed their explosive," replied Geist.

          Klink took a bite of food and stared at Geist.  "Are you kidding?"

          Shaking his head, Geist replied, "I saw from a distance what they were doing."

          "Where did they plant it?" asked Klink.

          "I won't say anything else here.  I've probably already said too much as it is," Geist replied with a furtive glance upward.

          Colonel Crittendon came over to their table and asked, "How's the food?"

          Klink nodded.  "It tastes good, no matter how bad it tastes."

          Crittendon chuckled.  "Colonel, I see you still have a sense of humor.  Jolly good show that is.  I hope that all you men are released soon and allowed to return to Germany."

          "You do?" asked Klink.

          "I've been a prisoner and I know how it feels to be kept away from those I love.  It's a fate I wouldn't wish on anyone," replied Crittendon.

          Klink didn't know what to say.  "Thank you, Colonel."

          Crittendon stood.  "You're welcome.  I'll be leaving tonight after everything is done here."

          Nodding, Klink continued consuming his meal until he saw Geist's expression.  He was staring at Crittendon's back.  Klink looked at Crittendon and then at Geist who nodded slightly.  Klink's eyes went wide with dread.

          When Klink returned to the barracks, he climbed up to his bunk, lay down and closed his eyes.  _At least my stomach isn't growling tonight!_

          What seemed like a moment later, someone shook his shoulder to wake him.  When he opened his eyes, Klink saw Sergeant Hawkins standing there.

          Hawkins said, "Colonel, the commandant wishes to see you in his office."

          Surprised by Hawkins' politeness, Klink climbed down from the bunk and put on his monocle and hat.  The barracks was dark and quiet as they left.  There was little moonlight and a warm, moisture-laden breeze blew through the compound.

          "What does Crenshaw want?" asked Klink.

          "I don't know, he doesn't take me into his confidence," replied Hawkins.

          They entered the administration building, and then Crenshaw's office.

          Crenshaw stood and said, "Colonel Klink."

          Klink folded his arms across his chest and looked at Crenshaw expectantly.  "Well? What do you want?"

          Crenshaw's expression was relaxed as he said, "You're under arrest."

          "WHAT?!?!?" asked Klink.

          "Hawkins, take him to the cooler," ordered Crenshaw.

          "What did I do?" asked Klink.  "I have a right to know!"

          Crenshaw turned toward the window without replying.

          Hawkins nudged Klink in the arm with his rifle.  "Let's go."

          Klink couldn't believe what was happening to him.  He stumbled toward the door.  When they left the administration building, Klink saw it was now raining and he didn't have his coat.  The building housing the cooler was nearby.  Within moments they stood outside a cell.  Hawkins opened the cell door.  Klink entered and heard the cell door clang shut behind him.  He sat down on the cot and tried to make himself comfortable.

          Klink felt angry and depressed.  He covered his face with his hands.  A few minutes later, he felt a chill creeping into his hands.  Klink put his hands under his arms to try and warm them.  _What did I do to deserve this treatment? he wondered as a shiver ran through his body._

          The quiet of the cell was suddenly, violently interrupted by a tremendous explosion – he assumed it was the one that Geist had warned him about - and a lot of noise.  Klink jumped from the bunk and rushed to the window of the cell.  Looking out, he saw a car in flames and recognized the car as the one Colonel Crittendon had arrived in.

          _Oh NO! Is Colonel Crittendon dead?!?_ Klink thought.


	11. The Path to Freedom

_Author's Note:  Others own the Hogan's Heroes characters.  All others are my creations.  Please don't use them without my permission._

Beyond the End - Part 11

By Diane Maher 

  
  


          Klink stared out the cell window, horrified watching Colonel Crittendon's car burn.  He watched as the guards ran over to extinguish the flames with their fire hoses and water buckets.  He heard the shouts as the burnt corpse was discovered, and turned away from the window, nauseated.

          He fell to the floor shivering uncontrollably.  Why hadn't he tried harder to warn Colonel Crittendon that there might have been a bomb in his car? Why? Klink slammed his fist on the floor in anger at his own foolishness.  Geist had told him that there was a bomb in Crittendon's car and yet, since he couldn't tell him in the mess hall, surrounded by men who would think him a turncoat for speaking with an enemy officer, he hadn't acted on that information.  _Am I now responsible for the deaths of two people?_ he thought.

          His hand shook as he lifted it, like it had after he'd killed General Metzger back at Stalag 13.  Slowly, he made his way back to the bunk, lay down and faced the wall.  Crittendon had remained inside either the administration building or the visiting guest quarters.  He had been inaccessible to the prisoners.  Klink knew that was only part of the reason he'd not been able to warn Crittendon.  Deep down, he'd been afraid of what the other prisoners would do to him if they found he felt concern for an enemy officer.  Removing his monocle, and placing it in his tunic's pocket, he closed his eyes and tried not to think of what had happened outside.  Was it Crittendon's body in the car? He sincerely hoped not.

  
  


          Klink woke when he heard the rattle of the keys in the lock.  He swung his legs over the edge of the bunk and sat up.  Crenshaw and another man entered the cell.

          "This is the man.  If you need anything, call for the guard," said Crenshaw.

          Klink slid his fingers into his tunic's pocket, pulled out his monocle and placed it on his eye.  He made no move to stand.

          The door closed behind Crenshaw with a final, echoing boom.  Klink shivered and he reflexively rubbed his hands along his thighs to hide his nervousness from the stranger.

          "Now, Colonel Klink.  I understand that you were a POW camp commandant," said the man.

          Klink's eyes narrowed suspiciously as he looked at this man.  "Who are you?"

          "I am Wing Commander Sedgwick," the man answered.

          This man seemed more reasonable than Crenshaw.  "Jawohl.  I was Kommandant of Luft Stalag 13, on the outskirts of Hammelburg."

          Sedgwick took a step closer and said, "We're aware of Hitler's last order to you Kraut POW commandants."

          "Who's we?" whispered Klink hoarsely.

          Leaning closer, Sedgwick replied, "Those of us who are investigating the war crimes of you Krauts."  Klink swallowed nervously and leaned back against the wall.  A smirk came over Sedgwick's face at his fearful reaction.  "And you are the only camp commandant that we've been able to find."

          Klink blanched visibly.  "Wha...what are you going to do with me?"

          Sedgwick stepped back, turned away, and replied, "I believe that a court martial may be convened to determine your fate."

          "I...I'm going to be tried when I've done nothing wrong?" whispered Klink, incredulous.

          "If you cooperate, it will go much easier on you," said Sedgwick.  "There is also another matter.  I am assisting in the investigation of the attempt on Colonel Crittendon's life last night.  You should be aware that you are a suspect in that crime."

          Klink couldn't believe what he was hearing.  "I had nothing to do with it! I was already locked in here when the car exploded! Is Colonel Crittendon...?"

          "He wasn't in the car.  The man who was killed was his driver."  Sedgwick narrowed his eyes.  "It has since been discovered that three prisoners escaped last night during the commotion.  I suppose you had nothing to do with that either?"

          Klink gaped at Sedgwick.  Inside, Klink was intensely relieved that Crittendon was alive.  He suspected that the reprisals against Crittendon's death would have been swift and merciless and would have started with him.  He slowly stood, straightened his tunic, went to the window and looked out at the remains of the car.  The sun was up and he could barely see the prisoners in the formation.  "Nein."

          "Don't play games with me, Klink," said Sedgwick.

          Swallowing nervously, Klink said, "I had nothing to do with the bomb in the car.  If the escaped prisoners are who I think they are, then good riddance.  We'll be better off without them here."

          Sedgwick's brow rose.  "You have a grudge against those prisoners?"

          "No, but one of them disliked me intensely," replied Klink.

          "Why do you say that, Colonel?" asked Sedgwick.

          "The Gestapo is notorious for disliking everyone," replied Klink with a shrug.

          "I see," Sedgwick said.  "I was to take the Gestapo man with me when I left to evaluate the need to try him for war crimes."

          "You were?" asked Klink.

          Sedgwick nodded and turned his attention to a folder, which he opened and looked at the contents.  He took his time and flipped through several pages of material.

          Klink was nervous and Sedgwick's delay only made it worse.  _How long will he continue flipping through those pages in that damned folder?_

          Sedgwick closed the folder and said, "Colonel Klink, give me some details about your prisoners and camp, so I can expedite this matter."

          Klink looked at Sedgwick, "Isn't that what you have there in your folder?"

          Sedgwick grinned evilly.  "You're right Colonel.  That's exactly what I have here."  The smile reminded Klink of Major Hochstetter when he threatened him.

          "You have? What all is in there?" asked Klink.

          "Various depositions from your former prisoners," replied Sedgwick.

          "What did they say about me?" asked Klink.

          Sedgwick's grin broadened.  "You really want to know what they thought of you?  Well, on the average, they didn't like you."

          Klink stared at Sedgwick, wondering if this was the beginning of the end for him.  "On the average? What does that mean?"

          "It means that your prisoners generally didn't like you – however, the senior POW officer gave you higher marks overall and I've been informed that his remarks will carry the most weight in our evaluation of you."

          "So why are you here?" asked Klink, mystified.

          The keys rattled in the lock and then the door opened.  Klink turned to face the newcomer and gasped in recognition.  The man who entered the cell was none other than Colonel Hogan – only now, Klink noticed that Hogan wasn't a colonel any more.

          Sedgwick stood and saluted.  "General Hogan, thank you for coming on such short notice."

          Hogan returned the salute.  Looking at Klink, he acknowledged him with a nod and calmly said, "Colonel Klink."

          "Hogan," said Klink.  He couldn't believe his eyes.

          "That's General Hogan to you!" Sedgwick snapped.

          A smile flitted across Hogan's face.  "Dismissed, Wing Commander!"

          Klink watched as Sedgwick frowned, stiffly saluted Hogan and left the cell.  Once the door was closed, Hogan turned and looked him over.  "I see that you've learned what it's like to be a prisoner.  Not fun and games, is it?"

          "No, it's not.  I've had to deal with prisoners who don't respect me, some who downright despise me and there are those who think I'm nothing more than a cringing bootlicker.  Of course, there's that pathetic excuse for a Kommandant, Major Crenshaw.  He can't stand me."  Klink paused and then, seeing Hogan's distant expression, asked, "Hogan, why are you here?"

          A cheeky smile crossed Hogan's face.  "I just wanted to see how you enjoyed life as a POW – and get you out of trouble."

          Klink cringed.  "But I've done nothing..."

          "I know that! I just had an interview with another prisoner, Oberstleutnant Geist."

          Klink's eyes widened.  "You've spoken with Geist?"

          "I have.  He thinks highly of you.  He told me of the things that you've done since becoming senior POW in his place.  You've done a good job, Klink, despite the conditions here.  Colonel Crittendon has asked me to discuss Major Crenshaw's actions with you so he can forward a complete report to the Red Cross."

          Klink gaped at Hogan.  "You want me to tell you what I think of that idiot Crenshaw?"

          "That's right," said Hogan.  "I suppose he felt that you would feel more comfortable talking to me."

          Klink nodded.  "Crenshaw doesn't believe in the Geneva Convention, no matter how much he claims to adhere by it."

          "I see.  And you believe that as a commandant you abided by it?" asked Hogan ironically.

          Aghast, Klink replied, "I believe that you and your men were treated well, Hogan.  Perhaps not like kings, but certainly far better than I've been treated here."  Klink's stomach growled in agreement.

          "And at the end, you did save my life."

          Klink nodded.  "By the way, how is Sergeant Kinchloe's leg?"

          Hogan's eyebrows rose.  "He recovered quickly from the wound."

          "You look surprised that I would ask," said Klink.

          "I am."

          "Sergeant Kinchloe is the reason I was able to stand up to General Metzger," Klink began.  "The look in his eyes as he watched the confrontation between you and Metzger touched me in a way that very few things have."

          "I see," said Hogan.  He crossed to the barred window.  "I remember this view from Stalag 13."

          "You didn't see it very often, Hogan.  I rarely put you in the cooler," Klink said dryly.  Come to think of it, you rarely did anything that warranted solitary confinement."

          Hogan chuckled.

          "What's so funny?" asked Klink.

          Hogan shook his head, as if recalling a fond memory.  Klink saw that familiar, irritating, mischievous twinkle in his eyes.  "Nothing.  Tell me about Major Crenshaw."

          Klink's expression became fearful.  "Why?"

          "I told you! So Colonel Crittendon can give him what he deserves."

          "And when you and Crittendon leave, our goose is cooked with Crenshaw!"

          "No, Colonel.  You have my word on it," said Hogan solemnly.

          Klink looked hard at Hogan.  Then, he loudly exhaled.  "All right.  I guess I've no choice but to trust you."

          "Have I ever let you down?" asked Hogan.

          Heaving another sigh, Klink replied, "No, I suppose not."

  
  


          Hogan gathered his notes together.  "Well, Colonel.  I think that I can convince the powers that be not to make you their scapegoat for the crimes of your fellow commandants."

          "Thank you, Hogan.  I've found it ironic at times that I have faced under Crenshaw what you may have faced under me," said Klink.

          Hogan took in Klink's appearance before replying, "Colonel, at least you fed us.  I see that you've lost weight since you've been here."

          Klink smiled at him.  "You should see Schultz.  He's dropped quite a few pounds since we've been here."

          "As much as I'd like to, I can't.  Tell him I said hello, would you?" asked Hogan as he stood.

          Klink stood and replied with a nod, "Of course."  As Hogan turned to leave, Klink saluted him.  "Herr General."

          "Herr Oberst."  Hogan returned Klink's salute.  A minute later, the cell was quiet.

  
  


          Several days passed before a guard came and took Klink back to Crenshaw's office.  On entering, he saw Crenshaw behind the desk, Crittendon and Sedgwick sitting across from him.  He looked around, but Hogan wasn't there.  _I suppose he returned to where he's now stationed._

          Today, Crenshaw gave him more than his usual scowl.  Klink saw burning hatred in his eyes.  Taken aback, Klink feared that he would be shot for what he confided to Hogan.

          "Ah, Colonel Klink," began Crittendon.  "I have some good news for you, old chap."

          _Old chap?! thought Klink indignantly.  He tried to keep a neutral expression as he asked, "What news is that?"_

          Grinning, Crittendon replied, "You and the other prisoners are to be released and allowed to return to Germany."

          Klink's eyes widened in surprise.  "When?"

          Crittendon continued, "Since we determined that you aren't going to be tried for crimes you didn't commit and the other men, to our knowledge have committed no atrocities, I decided that there was little point in keeping this camp open any longer.  That Gestapo chap who we believe tried to murder me escaped with his cohorts, but that is hardly your fault."

          Crenshaw muttered, "And my career is over too, no thanks to you, Klink! You bloody rotten Kraut!"

          Klink was stunned at this news.  _I'm going home.  At last, I'm going home! _He quickly regained his senses and whispered, "Thank you, Colonel Crittendon."

          "You're welcome, Colonel Klink.  As to when, I should think that you prisoners may leave in the next couple of days.  I'll see to it that the details are announced at the next roll call.  You are dismissed and may start disseminating the information."  Crittendon beamed at him.  "Many a time I've stood before you and wished it would happen to me, old chap.  Glad I could say the words to you."

          Klink managed a nod.  He saluted, turned and left the office.  As he crossed the compound, he looked up at the blue sky.  The first word that came to mind was _freedom_.  His next thought was of Sofia.  Tears of joy rolled down his cheeks at the thought of being reunited with her.  He reached up, removed his monocle and wiped his eyes.  Replacing his monocle, he continued towards Barracks 12.

          Geist stepped out.  "I see they finally released you.  Some Allied general asked me some questions about you and I'm curious as to what's been happening."

          "Come with me," said Klink.

          "We've been confined to quarters since the car exploded a few nights ago."

          "Don't worry about that.  Come."

          The two officers walked away from the building and stood near the water tower, out of sight of the guards.  Geist looked expectantly at Klink.

          "Do you remember me telling you about the senior POW officer at Stalag 13?"

          Geist nodded and then understanding dawned.  "That general was him? I thought you said he was a colonel."

          "It seems he was promoted," Klink said.  "It seems that the Allies haven't been able to find any of the other POW camp Kommandants and were considering trying me as a war criminal in their place."

          "Are you serious?!" Geist whispered, incredulous.

          Nodding, Klink replied, "I'm quite serious.  Apparently, Hogan spoke up in my defense.  Crittendon thought that I would be more comfortable talking to Hogan and that's why he came."

          "Did you talk to him?" asked Geist.

          A sardonic grin crossed Klink's face as he replied, "I did, but most of what I said was in regards to Major Crenshaw."

          Geist laughed.  "So, you told him what you thought of Crenshaw?"

          "Jawohl.  Hogan must have succeeded in convincing the Allies about me.  When I was taken back to Crenshaw's office, I got the news that I was not to be tried for the crimes of the other Kommandants."

          "That's great!" exclaimed Geist.

          "What's even better is that Colonel Crittendon told me that we were to be released in the next few days."

          Geist was stunned into silence.  Klink continued, "You can go home to your sister and I will return to Hammelburg to find Sofia."

          "I hope she is well, Wilhelm," said Geist.

          "I hope your sister is well when you return to her, Karl," replied Klink with a nod.

          Klink saw Geist scan the camp.  "It will be good to leave this place."

          "Yes.  Colonel Crittendon said there would be an announcement later today at the roll call, but I thought I'd tell you first."

          "Danke.  I guess we won't need that tunnel after all," said Geist.  "May I tell the others about this?"

          Klink replied, "Yes.  I'm going back to my barracks to tell the men there.  Are the prisoners still confined to the barracks?"

          "As far as I know," Geist replied.

          "I see.  I suppose we should get back before someone gets trigger-happy."

          When Klink returned to his barracks, he found that the burnt out light bulb hadn't been replaced.  He now knew that it wouldn't be.  He looked at Schultz's bunk and found him snoring peacefully.  It didn't matter that it was almost noon.  Shaking his head at Schultz, he turned towards the men in his barracks and called, "May I have your attention please?"

          Behind him, Schultz snored.  The other men were at attention, so he turned around, nodded at the private who occupied a bunk across from him and waited.  The private brought a cup of water over and handed it to him.  Klink dashed the water in Schultz's face.

          Schultz sputtered awake.  "What is going on here?!" he demanded.

          "Dummkopf! I'm about to make an important announcement!" exclaimed Klink.

          "Oh, I'm sorry, Herr Oberst," Schultz said as he stood.

          "I have just been informed that we are to be released in the next few days."  There was a moment of stunned silence followed by cheering.  Klink motioned for silence and finished, "I believe we will find out exactly when we will be released at the next roll call."

  
  


          At the evening roll call, Klink noticed that Crenshaw was nowhere to be seen.  Colonel Crittendon stood in front of them with several men who Klink assumed were on his staff.  After Sergeant Hawkins reported that all the prisoners were present, Crittendon took two steps forward.

          "Prisoners! My superiors have informed me that it is time for you to be released and we are to give you a small amount of money as you leave the camp."  He looked directly at Klink.  "Colonel Klink, I would like you to assist us.  Please choose several men and come to the commandant's office first thing in the morning.  That is all."

          Klink stared after Crittendon.  Geist came over and stood next to him.  "Geist, bring Captain Gruber and Corporal Langenscheidt tomorrow morning.  Sergeant Schultz, you will also help."

          "Yes sir," replied Geist.  Geist looked at the gate of the camp and the land beyond.  "Soon we'll see that view without barbed wire and guards."

          Klink looked and his expression softened.  "Yes.  We will be free to live our lives without the shadow of Hitler or war over us.  Good night, Karl.  I'm going to turn in early.  Tomorrow will be a long day."

  
  


          The next morning, Klink and his men found Crittendon behind Crenshaw's desk when they entered the commandant's office.  The men he had seen last night were with him.  Crittendon stood and motioned to some canvas sacks on the floor beside the desk.  "Klink, I need you and your men to assist us in getting this money handed out quickly.  I expect things to run smoothly.  If they do, I'll give you and your men a little extra money."

          "Where will this be done?" asked Klink.

          "It will be done in the mess hall and as soon as possible.  When the prisoners get their money and leave, the front gates will be open," replied Crittendon.  "It shouldn't take more than a couple of hours.  Report to the mess hall now."

          Klink nodded and saluted then, followed Geist and the others out of the office accompanied by several guards carrying the canvas sacks.  They reported to the mess hall where they were instructed on what they were to do.  The prisoners began filing through a short while later.  As Klink handed over the French and German currency, he wondered if it would be enough to get the men home.  His men.  His last command, for he did not expect the Allies would allow him to command soldiers again.  He looked at the money.  No picture of Hitler.  The French notes had pictures of DeGaulle on them, and the Goddess of Liberty wearing her cap.  _The little cockroach must be pleased._  Things ran smoothly over the next couple of hours and soon, everyone was gone but them.  Colonel Crittendon was true to his word and gave them all something extra.  He told them they were to leave as soon as possible.

          Klink and the others returned briefly to their barracks to collect the few possessions they had.  When they met in the compound, Klink looked at the open gate and said solemnly, "This is it, men.  We are finally free."

          They walked towards the main gate.  When he stepped outside the camp, Klink felt as though a weight was lifted from his shoulders.  No more did he have to put up with aggravating guards or former Gestapo agents who wanted him dead.  Now was the time for him to return home and find Sofia.  He looked at Geist.  The Oberstleutnant had a solemn look on his face as he stepped out of the camp.  Schultz's expression was one of grateful excitement.  _He's going back to his family,_ Klink thought with a little smile.  _I hope he can rebuild his toy factory._  Gruber and Langenscheidt looked relaxed.

          "I would like to thank you all for standing by me during our mutual incarceration in this miserable place.  May you all find your families alive and well, wherever they may be," said Klink.

          Geist replied, "You're welcome, Herr Oberst."

          They turned east and started down the road leading towards Germany.  _Will I find Sofia alive and well?_ Klink wondered.


	12. Return to a Woman's Love

_Author's Note:  Others own the Hogan's Heroes characters.  All others are my creations.  Please don't use them without my permission.  I would like to thank marylinusca for beta-reading this story and asking the right questions that helped me get past my writer's block on more than one occasion._

Beyond the End - Part 12

By Diane Maher 

  
  


          Klink had been traveling for several days to return to Hammelburg.  He was exhausted as he carefully navigated the destroyed panzers outside of town.  Seeing their battle-scarred hulks made him wonder about Geist.  Had Karl made it back to Frankfurt? Klink stopped to stretch.  His body ached from the long days of walking, though he had managed to sneak on trains for most of his trip.  His clothes were dirty from the dust of the road, and his stubbly beard itched.

          As he trudged through Hammelburg, Klink saw the people trying to repair their damaged homes and continuing on with their daily struggle to live.  He was famished.  He had tried to keep the small amount of money Crittendon had given to him intact, so he'd scrounged for food and only paid when he absolutely had to.  Hammelburg wasn't as devastated as other places he had traveled through during his journey.  He was thankful that the Allied invaders had not destroyed everything in sight.  Although many buildings were bullet ridden, and a few showed walls blasted by tank shells, most of the buildings were as he remembered them.

          No one paid attention to him as he made his way to the address of the apartment building where Sofia Lindemann lived.  Relieved when he found it intact, he walked into the building, and upstairs to her apartment.

          Klink brushed off his dusty uniform as best he could.  He hesitated before knocking on the door.  _Will Sofia want to see me? Does she still care about me or does she think I'm dead? Will she want to see this dirty and haggard remnant of a once proud German officer?_ Taking a deep breath, he raised his fist and knocked on her door.

          Klink heard muffled footsteps.  He stood straight with his head held high.  The door opened, and there she was, standing in front of him.  She was thin and somewhat paler than he recalled.  Her face was as beautiful as ever, and her hair was just like he remembered.

          Klink raised his hands slightly, hesitantly, toward her.  "Sofia?"

          "Wilhelm?" gasped Sofia.  She stared at him as though he was a ghost.

          He could only imagine how she saw him.  He wasn't the immaculately groomed, proud, German Oberst he had once been.  Now, he was a former POW, his pride in shreds.  _Why would Sofia still want me? Klink's despair grew with every moment of silence._

          "Wilhelm!" She stepped forward, hugged him tightly and planted a tender kiss on his lips.  "Come in.  Where have you been?"

          He was too proud to answer in the hallway.  It would have been like broadcasting his shame to the world.  He walked into her apartment, Sofia closed the door and they went to the living room.  "I've been a prisoner in an Allied POW camp in France," replied Klink, ashamed.

          Sofia gasped.  "Oh my! Are you all right? Did they treat you poorly?"

          "There were a few times, yes," replied Klink.

          He looked at her face, saw a smudged spot of dirt, reached up and lightly touched it.  "I've made your lovely face dirty."

          "Don't worry about it, Wilhelm," she said quietly.  She took him in her arms again.  "I've been worried sick about you! Why didn't you send me a letter telling me what happened to Stalag 13? I went there as soon as I could after the invading forces passed through town and found it was deserted.  I was afraid you'd been killed!"

          "I wrote several, but didn't think that any letters I sent would get through to you, and that's why I never sent them.  I've missed you so much; I can't put my feelings into words."

          "Oh Wilhelm!" Sofia whispered.  She gazed at him, with tears sliding down her cheeks, and then kissed him passionately.  He felt himself relax in her arms and in that instant, felt his aching heart soothed by her welcoming him back into her life.

          Sofia stood and then stepped back.  Holding him at arm's length, she took in his grimy appearance and said, "Would you like to get cleaned up and rest? There are some of your clothes in the closet and dresser from when you were last here on furlough."

          Klink nodded, relieved and grateful.  He followed her into the bedroom and crossed through to the bathroom.  Closing the door, he shed his clothes.  As he dropped them on the floor, he noticed how dirty they - and he - looked.  _And Sofia still kissed me!_ he marveled.  _She kissed me passionately!_ There was a soft knock on the door.  He cracked open the door and found Sofia standing there.

          "Here's your robe, Wilhelm.  The water should be warm, I was getting ready to bathe when you arrived," Sofia said.

          Klink blushed.  "I'll try not to use all the warm water so you can bathe when I'm finished."

          "I'll heat up some more water.  You go ahead and take as long as you want," replied Sofia.

          He felt guilty taking her bath, but once he settled in the tub, the warmth of the water soothed his aching body, like her welcome had soothed his aching heart.  Life as a POW had not been fun and he realized that he wouldn't want anyone to have to go through what he endured.  For the first time since he had surrendered Stalag 13 to Hogan, he no longer felt he was a prisoner. _ How did Hogan put up with being a POW for so long?_ Klink wondered.

          Shaking his head, he brought his mind back to the present.  The war was over; Germany was in ruins, what would he do? He loved Sofia and wanted to marry her, but he needed to get a job so he could support them.  Shrugging, he finished bathing, climbed out of the tub, dried himself off with a towel, pulled on his robe and went to stand in front of the mirror.

          Looking at his reflection, Klink ran his hand over his jawbone.  _I'm surprised that Sofia wanted to kiss me with all this stubble on my face!_ He opened the medicine cabinet over the sink and found some of his shaving supplies.  A few minutes later, he looked at his reflection again and smiled as he saw his familiar, handsome self staring back at him.  Klink turned and left the bathroom feeling like a civilized man.

          He went to the living room where Sofia sat on the sofa reading a magazine.  She looked up and met his gaze.  Klink eased himself down next to her, leaned closer, took her in his arms and kissed her.

  
  


          A month later, in the middle of the night, Klink woke in a cold sweat.  Sofia, who was sleeping peacefully next to him stirred and mumbled, "What is it, Wilhelm?"

          "I had a nightmare, Sofia," replied Klink.  "This was the worst one yet."

          "Tell me about it," Sofia whispered.

          "I thought the dream where I killed my prisoners in Stalag 13 was bad.  In the dream I just had, I was forced to watch Crenshaw's men shoot my fellow prisoners as they walked out the gates of that awful camp we were interned in, and then I was taken away to be tried as a war criminal."

          "And these nightmares started after you returned from France last month?" Sofia asked sleepily.

          "Ja," replied Klink.

          He lay down again and looked over at Sofia next to him.  He closed his eyes, shut out the memory of that horrible dream and remembered how they first met.  He had hired her as his secretary shortly after Fräulein Hilda left for Berlin to be with her husband, Abwehr General Wehrstein, late in 1943.  Sofia lived in Hammelburg at the time and commuted via bicycle to Stalag 13.

          Klink grinned lasciviously as he remembered how he had flirted with Sofia after hiring her as his secretary.  At the time, he had thought that's all it would be to him – a flirtation.  Nothing serious.  After a few weeks, she informed him she was moving back to Leipzig to be close to her family.  He had despaired after her departure.  He could not get over how he missed her.

          Now that he thought about it, he supposed that Hogan and the prisoners had suffered more than they should have because of his mood.  Hogan must have known something was wrong, because things ran smoothly for a while.  _I could never figure Hogan out,_ Klink mused.  _He was the most irritating pest I ever knew; yet he could turn around and be the most obliging of men._

          However, when Sofia returned to Hammelburg at the beginning of 1945, their relationship had blossomed.

          Klink remembered the afternoon in March with the thunderstorm and torrential rains.  He had offered to drive Sofia home after they had a delicious French dinner in his quarters, but the storm worsened and the lights went out.  He had to ensure the prisoners didn't take advantage of the power outage to escape, and he insisted that she couldn't drive home alone safely in such appalling weather.  So, she stayed.  After he ordered his guards to see to the confinement of the prisoners, he returned to his quarters.  She had lit some candles, and after he removed his wet clothes for something more comfortable, they found that hugging and kissing on the sofa led them to spend the night together making passionate love.

          Sofia accepted him for who he was and she made him truly happy.  She had been the only woman he'd met and liked with whom he could talk.  He sighed heavily as he realized the depths of his feelings for her.  He felt tears on his cheeks, and realized he was crying from happiness.

          "Wilhelm? Are you all right?" asked Sofia, her tone gentle.

          Klink's mind returned to the present as he opened his eyes and turned to face her.  He noticed that her red hair was bathed in the light from the moon coming through the window and reached up to run his fingers through it as he whispered, "Yes, my love."

          "Why are you crying?" asked Sofia.

          "I…I love you," admitted Klink in a whisper.  He was finding it difficult to propose to the woman he loved.

          Sofia kissed him tenderly.  "I love you too."

          Klink was speechless for a moment.  When he looked into her eyes again, he knew that now was the time.  He got out of bed, pulled on his robe, went over to the dresser, pulled open one of the drawers, reached in and took out a small velvet box.  With a quick glance in the mirror over the dresser to make sure that his appearance was neat and clean, he turned and crossed the room to where Sofia now stood clad in his black and gold robe.  He noticed how it enhanced the womanly curves of her body.  Taking a deep breath, he knelt on one knee and took her hand in his.

          Opening the box, Klink asked, "Sofia, my darling, will you marry me?"

          She looked at the ring in the box and then at him.  Her expression melted into a look of joy.  "Of course, Wilhelm!" she replied.  She pulled him to his feet and hugged him tightly.

          "Oh Sofia, this is the happiest moment in my life!" Klink softly exclaimed as he held her close and hugged her.  Silently, he thanked God that she had accepted him.  He felt the press of her breasts against his chest and felt a stirring within himself.

          Sofia stepped back, pulled open his robe, unbuttoned his pajama top, and slid her hands over his hairy chest.  "What are you doing, mein Liebchen?" he nervously asked her.

          She replied sultrily, "Do you really need to ask?"

          With a smirk, Klink reached out and undid the belt that held the robe closed about her.  It fell open and he saw her negligee.  It was the filmy one that he'd given her.  Her curvaceous body was quite visible through the translucent material.  He replied huskily, "No."

          They left a trail of clothing behind them on the floor as they returned to bed.  Seating her on the mattress, Klink lifted Sofia's chin and kissed her.  He kept his lips on hers as his hands explored her body.

          "Mmmm...Wilhelm," Sofia whispered as she slowly pushed off his pajama top and robe.  Her hands continued down his chest, unbuttoned his pajama pants and pushed them down over his hips.

          Klink stroked her breasts through the fabric of the negligee.  He wanted more than the feel of fabric beneath his hands.  He wanted to feel her.  Carefully, Klink started removing her negligee and soon, she was naked next to him on the bed.  He casually tossed the negligee over his shoulder and finished removing his clothes.  Sofia giggled in delight as Klink nuzzled her neck and showered her body with kisses.

          Klink didn't rush even though he wanted to.  He felt a surge of glee as she touched him.  "Oh Sofia!" he whispered.

          Sofia stroked Klink's bald pate slowly and said, "You are a wonderful and gentle man, Wilhelm."

          Klink gazed lovingly at her and whispered, "I hope I will always be wonderful in your eyes, Sofia."

          As he moved atop her, Sofia whispered, "I'm sure that you will be."

          Klink silenced her with a gentle, sensual kiss to her lips and started to make love to her.  When they finished making love a while later, he reached down and pulled the duvet and sheets over them.  Sofia snuggled up to him and fell asleep with a tiny, satisfied smile on her face. Closing his eyes, Klink felt content, finally and completely at peace as he dozed off.


End file.
